


How Bold I Was, Could Be, Will Be

by probablyfakenews



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Agni didnt think it would be this hard to keep Zuko alive, Child Abuse, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, So much hurt before we get to the comfort tho, Spirit Shenanigans, Temporary Character Death, The poor boy dies literally every other chapter be warned, Trauma, and then more hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24304471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyfakenews/pseuds/probablyfakenews
Summary: Zuko discovers that he can’t die. Somehow, his life gets worse.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 257
Kudos: 1100





	1. Chapter 1

PART ONE: A Quick-Burning Flame

Zuko loved the Fire Nation. He loved the way the sunlight glinted off of gold and steel. He loved the distant sound of waves and the crisp breeze that blew in from the sea. He loved his family. The Fire Nation was his home. It was all he had ever known.

But sometimes, it was way, way too hot.

On the days when Agni seemed to bear down on them from above, hunting their every move with his scorching gaze, Zuko and Azula took shelter beneath the shade of the tree in the center of the palace’s courtyard. Zuko rolled his pants up over his knees and submerged his feet in the cool water of the pond. It wasn’t very fitting behavior of a royal, but neither was passing out from heat stroke. Turtleducks clustered around him, fighting over the bread scraps he had tossed their way. 

Azula sat cross-legged next to him. She wasn’t even sweating. Zuko totally wasn’t jealous. 

“Be thankful you don’t have to go to school,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Mai and Ty Lee are sufficient, but the others are insufferable. I can’t believe such stupid girls represent the Fire Nation. They should all be shipped to the Earth Kingdom. We’d be better off without them. I mean, just the other day this girl said that—“

Something bumped against Zuko’s leg. He looked down to see a baby turtleduck nestled up against him, hiding from the larger, more aggressive members of its flock as they fought for food. Its wing was clearly broken, tucked against its body at an awkward angle.

“Oh, no,” Zuko murmured, scooping the chick gently out of the water. He showed it to his sister. “It’s hurt!”

“Ew. That’s unsanitary,” Azula said. She took her time selecting a small rock from the courtyard floor. “Be sure to wash your hands when you’re done. Anyway, back to what I was saying. The teachers are even worse—“

Zuko broke off a piece of bread and offered it to the turtleduck. The small animal examined it, unsure. He waited patiently until it finally ate the crumb before he gave it another piece.

“—and then she had the nerve to say that I was ‘terrifying’ and ‘unpleasant to work with.’ Me? Unpleasant?” Azula skipped the rock across the pond, sending the turtleducks scattering to avoid it. “Of course, she didn’t know I was the princess. Needless to say, she knows now. I hope she enjoys her new job. I heard the colonies are nice this time of year.”

“Uh huh,” Zuko agreed absently. The turtleduck quacked at him, and he smiled. “Sounds nice.”

“Are you even listening?”

Zuko smoothed down the feathers on top of the little reptile-bird’s head. It leaned into the touch, so he began petting it in earnest. Suddenly, a small hand snatched the turtleduck from his palm. Azula laughed, dancing away from him. 

“This’ll teach you!” she said. “Next time, pay attention to me instead of a dumb animal!”

“Hey!” Zuko scrambled up after her. His wet feet slid on the stones. “Give it back!”

Azula stuck her tongue out at him. “Catch me if you can!” she taunted. “Or else the turtleduck gets it!”

“Lala!”

She tucked the animal into her robes and climbed the tree. She made it look as effortless as breathing. It took Zuko much longer to hoist himself up, and by that point his sister was already perched in the highest branches.

“You are in the honorable line of Sozin, and you can’t even climb a tree?” Azula called down. “How are we related?”

“What does Sozin’s blood have to do with tree climbing?”

“It has to do with everything, dear brother.” She held the duck out in front of her, examining it. “Aw, look how cute it is! Let’s see if it can fly!”

“It’s wing is broken!” Zuko cried. The next branch he grabbed creaked beneath his weight. “You know it can’t!”

“If it’s too weak to survive on its own then it doesn’t deserve to live,” she said. “What purpose is there in a bird that can’t fly?”

“Not everything has to have a purpose in order to deserve life.” Zuko was almost to the top. If he was just a little faster...

“You sound like mother.” Azula said it as if that were a bad thing. “If you feel that strongly about this, come and get it.”

She let the turtleduck slip through her fingers. It desperately flapped its one functional wing, but all the effort in the world would do nothing to stop its descent.

“No!” Zuko lunged. He cupped the small creature between his hands and used his legs to hang on to the branch. It was miracle he was able to keep his balance.

“Huh.” Azula’s eyes widened. “Not bad, Zuzu. I’m actually impressed. 

The turtleduck buried its head against his palm. Its heart was beating fast. Zuko couldn’t blame it. His was, too. He stroked its shell, murmuring reassurances. 

“I’ve got you, little guy,” he said, cradling the turtleduck to his chest. He glared at his sister. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you ever again.”

Azula kicked him in the side of the head. “I take it back. You’re still an embarrassment.

Zuko rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply, but his words morphed into a shout when the branch snapped beneath him. His heart lodged itself in his throat as he fell. There was a scream, a crack, and then nothing.

_“Not yet, my boy. It is not your time. Not even close.”_

Zuko woke to blinding sunlight. A warmth spread throughout his body, down to his very core. He felt good. Rested. He must have fallen asleep outside again. Mother always scolded him for it, but he couldn’t help it. It was just so comfortable!

There was a small, hiccuping sound somewhere to his right. Was someone crying? Zuko sat up and turned toward the source of the noise. Azula sat on the stone floor beside him, knees pulled into her chest as she sobbed. He watched, fascinated. He had never seen her cry before. Not since she was a baby.

“What’s wrong, Lala?”

Azula’s gaze snapped up to meet his. Her eyes were rimmed with red and filled with so much distress that it sent Zuko’s protective older sibling instincts into overdrive. He reached out to pull her into a hug. She flinched back as if he had burned her.

“Zuko?” she asked, voice raw.

“Of course,” Zuko said. “Who else would it be?”

“You—“ She glanced at something behind him and back again. “I—“

Zuko followed her line of sight. The air was ripped from his lungs as he took in the chaos that had become of the courtyard. Blood splattered the paving stones beneath the tree. Some had trickled into the pond, staining the water a muddy pink. The turtleducks were all huddled at the far end of the pond, splashing around in a panicked frenzy.

“What happened?” Zuko asked.

“You weren’t breathing,” she whispered. Something dark glinted in her eyes. Now, she stared at him like a creature to be dissected instead of a monster to be feared. Zuko supposed that was an improvement. “Your skull was busted open. I don’t understand. What _are_ you?”

Zuko couldn’t take his eyes off the stone that his head had been resting on a moment before. It was covered in spiderwebbed cracks, as if it had been struck by a heavy object. Something dripped into his eye. He reached up to feel his forehead, and his fingertips came away red. 

The doors to the courtyard slammed open. “Oh, Agni!” a servant yelled. She gathered her skirts in her hands as she ran. “Are you hurt, my prince?”

“I’m fine,” Zuko said. He scrambled to his feet. The servant rushed forward as if to steady him. “No, really. it doesn’t hurt.”

The servant ignored him. She cupped his face, tilting his injury into the light. She gently wiped at the blood with a handkerchief and frowned. “That’s strange,” she said. She wiped a little more, as if to confirm her suspicions. “There’s no wound. Where did all this blood come from?”

The moment the girl had spoken, Azula was there, quick as a cobra-viper. She grabbed the collar of the servant’s dress with one hand and ignited a flame in the other. She yanked the woman down so that she could look her in the eye.

“You will tell no one about this,” Azula hissed. “If I hear so much as a peep from you, I will have you banished before you can blink.”

His little sister was seven years old. She had a doll’s face and weighed maybe sixty pounds if she was soaking wet. Still, the woman trembled. “Of course, princess.”

“Now clean this up. And for the love of Agni, be discrete about it.” Azula released the girl and latched onto Zuko’s arm instead. “Come, brother. Those soiled rags aren’t befitting of a prince. Let’s get you into clothes that won’t bring shame to our family.”

Zuko started to walk with her, but something caught his eye. “Wait,” he said, crouching. The turtleduck chick was huddled against the base of the tree. It appeared unharmed, psychological trauma aside. He reached out for it, but it flapped its uninjured wing and ran from him.

“I don’t get it,” he complained. “It liked me a minute ago!”

“Enough about the stupid duck!”

Azula marched out of the courtyard. Zuko spared a final glance back at the pond. The servant was already busy scrubbing the stones. Vowing to come back for his new turtleduck friend, he followed his sister into the palace.

Zuko remembered the fall. The rush of wind. The pull in his stomach. His sister’s scream as she reached for him. The violent crack as his head hit the stones. But as he parted his freshly-washed hair out of the way to examine the wound, he found his skin perfectly intact. There wasn’t even a scratch or a bruise. 

The mirror must be a liar.

“For Agni’s sake, Zuzu, the mirror isn’t lying. I saw it with my own eyes. You were dead, and then you weren’t.” Her voice was calm, but she was wearing out his floor with her constant pacing. “Has this happened before?”

“No! This is crazy.” Zuko grasped at his hair. “Am I immortal?”

“Well, we won’t know until we test it. One incident means nothing.”

“Test it? Do you want to get me killed?” Zuko said. “No way!”

Azula scoffed. “Coward.”

“I’m not a coward,” he protested. “But I’m also not going to let you murder me!”

A soft knock on the door made Zuko nearly jump out of his skin. “What is it?” he asked.

A servant stepped in. It was the same girl as before. Zuko really ought to learn her name. “Is this a bad time?” she said. “I came to collect your laundry.”

“It’s fine,” Zuko reassured her. “Thank you.”

The servant smiled at him. “I am glad to see you are looking well, my prince.”

“Just grab the clothes and leave,” Azula snapped. “I can’t stand dawdling. My brother and I have important business to discuss.”

Zuko glared at his sister. She raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘So? What are you going to do about it?’

“Yes, my princess.” The servant nodded respectfully. She retrieved the bloody garments that Zuko has left folded on the floor by his bed and turned to leave. However, when the woman was almost to the door, she stopped. 

“Prince Zuko,” she said. “I thought it was mere rumor, but now I think there might be more truth to the tale than I previously thought.”

Zuko furrowed his brow. “What tale?”

“The other servants, those that have worked here much longer than me, say that you were born cold. Agni had taken you before you had a single breath in this world,” the servant said. She kept her eyes trained on the floor. “They told me that the lanterns faded to embers as Lady Ursa wept for you. But then the lanterns flared to life, not just in the birthing room, but across the entire Caldera. As the flames rose, so did your voice. You were dead, and then you were alive, as healthy and loud as any other newborn.”

The room fell into silence as the two royal siblings stared at their servant. 

“Mother knows about me?” Zuko asked.

“She likely has her suspicions.” The girl turned around fully. She crossed the room and knelt by Zuko’s feet, the laundry still cradled against her chest. 

“There are some who believe you to be Agni’s champion. They say you will bring balance to the world and free us from this never-ending cycle of suffering and bloodshed.” The servant bowed her head until it was touching the floor. Her small frame trembled in fear. “Zuko, the one, true Firelord.”

The room grew cold. Azula must have synchronized with the lanterns in his room. Zuko stared at the servant, trying to pretend that he didn’t see the look Azula was sending his way. “Please,” he croaked. “Stand up. Leave, and never speak of this again.”

The girl nodded vigorously. She smoothed the now crinkled laundry and nearly ran from the room. Azula watched her closely as she left, a hawk eyeing its prey.

“I don’t understand,” Zuko whispered into the quiet. “Things are good in the Fire Nation. What did she mean about a cycle of suffering?”

“She’s clearly delusional,” Azula said. “Someone ought to teach her a lesson about patriotism.”

Dread crept up Zuko’s spine. “Lala?” he asked.

“Wow, what a day.” Azula stood. Her expression was completely unreadable. “Goodnight, brother.”

She didn’t spare him a glance as she followed the servant into the hall and shut the door behind her. Zuko breathed in deep and then out again, copying a calming technique that Uncle once taught him. His lantern flickered in sync with the gesture, finally back under his control. He grabbed the edge of his dresser in a white knuckled grip and glanced at the mirror once more.

What did it even mean to be Agni’s champion? He stared at his face, young and confused and scared, and wondered how anyone could see him as an idol. And what about the part about the ‘one, true Firelord?’ Zuko didn’t like the implications of that. His grandfather was an honorable Firelord. Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten would be honorable Firelords after him. Zuko was just a spare, the fourth in the line of succession. Not to mention his cowardice and complete lack of firebending skill. Anyone who had high expectations for him was clearly delusional.

The servant was spouting treason, and by the sounds of it, she wasn’t the only one. And yet, something about her words struck a chord with him. A part of him, deep and previously undiscovered, agreed with her.

Something in his reflection caught his eye. Zuko leaned in close to examine a marking on his forehead that he somehow missed before. The mark was small and faded like an old scar, barely visible against his pale skin. It was shaped like the royal flame, the symbol of Agni. Panicked, Zuko arranged his hair to cover it. 

He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all aboard the pain train next stop pain choo choo
> 
> please feel free to chat with me in the comments or on tumblr under the same username!
> 
> Title is inspired by “The Horror and the Wild” by The Amazing Devil.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner with his family was usually a quiet affair. Today was different. 

Father was bragging to Grandfather about the new firebending form Azula had perfected. Mother nodded along, complimenting his sister's determination. Zuko picked at his steamed fish with his chopsticks. He didn’t even pretend to be listening.

"Ba Sing Se is unlike anything you've ever seen, cousin," Lu Ten was saying. Zuko looked up at him. His cousin still wore his armor, which was splattered with dirt and blood from the war front. The attire was completely inappropriate for dinner, but Lu Ten could get away with anything. Zuko needed to learn his secret.

"The walls extend so high and reach so far that all you can see is stone for miles!" Lu Ten explained. He gestured widely with his hands as he talked. "Six hundred days and we still haven't broken through. I would kill for defenses like that."

"It's the Earth Kingdom,” Zuko said with disdain. "It can't be that impressive."

A servant poured Zuko's tea. Her sleeve was pushed up, revealing a partially-healed burn. The skin of her forearm was marked with a jarring, violent scar in the shape of a child's hand. Zuko hurriedly looked away.

"Once the city is under our control, I'll take you there," Lu Ten continued. "Maybe when you grow up, you can run it as a colony."

Zuko grinned. "Really? You want me to be Governor?"

"Of course. I would trust no one else with such a big responsibility," Lu Ten said. "The decision is Grandfather's obviously, but I'm sure I can sweet talk him. He'll do anything I say for a cup of my jasmine tea."

"So that's how you get away with everything!” Zuko leaned toward him excitedly. “Will you teach me how to make it?"

"It would be my honor.” Lu Ten bowed to him, a teasing smile on his lips. “I’ve been training for the throne since the moment I was born. One gathers a few tricks up one’s sleeves after a lifetime in court. You’ll get there.”

“I don’t know about that,” Zuko said. He nodded toward Father, who placed his hand on Azula’s shoulder as he recounted more of her accomplishments. 

“Azula has her talents,"Lu Ten admitted. "But you also have your own. You aren’t lesser than her, Zuko. Just different.”

“Father doesn’t seem to think so.”

“I’m sure he’ll come to his senses,” Lu Ten told him."Speaking of tea, where is mine? She poured some for everyone else!"

Sure enough, Lu Ten was the only one who had yet to be served. Zuko searched for the servant girl, but she was gone. 

"Here," he said. "You can have mine. I don't care much for jasmine anyway."

Zuko carefully lifted his tea cup and held it out for Lu Ten, but when he turned back to face his cousin, the seat was empty. All conversation abruptly ended. Zuko paled as four sets of eyes stared at him.

"Zuko, dear," his mother said. Her voice was laced with concern. "Who are you talking to?"

"Lu Ten!" Embarrassed, Zuko sat down the cup. "He was here just a moment ago..."

Azula gave him a funny look. "I knew you were strange, but this a bit much," she said. "Even for you."

"How is it weird to talk to my cousin? He was telling me about Ba Sing Se!"

"Lu Ten and Iroh are still in Ba Sing Se, Dummy!"

"I'm not dumb!" Zuko shouted. He was starting to remember why he sat so far away from his sister.

“Enough of this foolishness. You embarrass yourself, boy,” Father snapped. Zuko shriveled. “Just eat your dinner in silence.”

“Yes, Father.”

Zuko ducked his head and slowly worked through his meal, only glancing up to check if Lu Ten had returned to his seat. He never did.

"Urgent message for the Firelord!" A man burst into the dining room, panting for breath. He carried a scroll with such care and anxiety that Zuko would have thought it was coated in blasting jelly. "Straight from the front lines at Ba Sing Se!"

"Finally, the siege must be over," Grandfather said merrily. He accepted the scroll. "Prepare to welcome our esteemed princes home."

Grandfather unfastened the ribbon and let it fall to the table. Zuko watched as his eyes flitted back and forth across the scroll. The cheer drained from the Firelord's face with each word he read.

"No," Grandfather said. His voice thundered in the otherwise silent room. "Tell me this is false."

"I do not know what news the scroll contains, Your Majesty," the messenger said. "But it came directly from General Iroh's division. There has been no interference, as far as we can tell."

Grandfather collapsed back in his seat. He dragged his hand over his face. Father picked up the scroll and began to read. Zuko thought he saw a hungry, hopeful look in the man's eyes before it was quickly covered by grief.

“Prince Lu Ten is dead,” Father announced. “My brother is abandoning the siege of Ba Sing Se.”

Gasps and shouts rose up throughout the room. Azula caught Zuko’s panicked gaze. Her eyes flicked to Lu Ten’s empty seat and back again, and her lips parted in a knowing smile.

Time slipped through Zuko’s fingers like smoke.

He submerged himself in the monotony of his daily life. Master Piandao expressed disappointment at his lack of motivation, but his firebending instructors didn’t even notice. Azula progressed through the forms at a frightening speed while Zuko remained stagnant. He had embarrassed himself in front of Grandfather today, but that was far from the worst part of the meeting. His father’s words, overheard as Zuko hid behind the curtains, plagued his mind.

_I am here_ , Father had said. _My children are alive. Revoke Iroh’s birthright!_

Zuko curled in on himself, cupping his hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block out his thoughts. Ever since they received the news, a shadow had fallen over the Caldera. The Fire Nation struggled to cope with the loss. Everyone missed their prince. 

Everyone but Zuko.

“I can’t believe Uncle Ozai would say such a thing!” Lu Ten growled. He flopped down on Zuko’s bed. Zuko gritted his teeth, ignoring the burning itch that shot up his arm as Lu Ten’s shoulder brushed his own. Dried mud flaked off of his cousin’s armor, staining Zuko’s silk sheets. The servants never believed him when he told them the blankets were dirty. “My father is twice the man that Ozai could ever hope to be! To insinuate that Dad is somehow unfit—”

Zuko glared at him. Lu Ten shrugged, sheepish. “Uh, no offense?”

Zuko didn’t bother to respond. He stared up at the ceiling and watched a dragonfly-moth circle his lantern. It kept bumping against the glass, bouncing off only to try again a moment later. Foolish thing. Didn’t it know that it was chasing something it could never have?

“Come on, Zuzu! Talk to me,” Lu Ten whined. He reached up to ruffle Zuko’s hair. Zuko flinched as the muted pain of pins-and-needles spread across his scalp. There was something inherently uncomfortable about being touched by a ghost. “You’re the only one who does these days.”

“Don’t call me that!” Zuko snapped. He cocooned himself in his blankets, creating a barrier between him and the spirit.

“He speaks!” Lu Ten said. ”I was starting to think you had gone deaf.”

“I was starting to wish I had!”

Zuko prayed for sleep, but Agni seemed to be ignoring him. So much for being the sun spirit’s chosen one. Lu Ten grabbed at the moth. It passed harmlessly through his fingers. “What do you think his punishment will be?” he asked.

“What?” Zuko turned to look at him. He wished that Lu Ten was pale and wispy, that there was any kind of indication that the man had died. Instead, Lu Ten’s eyes stared back at him, as dark and vibrant and _real_ as the day he left for Ba Sing Se.

“Uncle Ozai disrespected the Firelord. There’s no way Grandfather will let that slide,” Lu Ten explained. “Personally, I’d strip him of his title. Or have him face Father in an Agni Kai. That would show him! I mean, the nerve of that guy—“

Sighing heavily, Zuko gave up on sleep. He climbed out of bed and grabbed his swords from their place on the wall. He retreated into the hallway without even bothering to put on sandals. Father would be displeased that he was wandering around barefoot like a common peasant, but the more sleep deprived he became, the less Zuko seemed to care.

He shambled down the hall, leaving a trail of confused servants in his wake. They must be new. Others bowed to him as he passed. Their gestures showed far too much reverence for the fourth in line for the throne. It took all he had not to squirm with discomfort.

Zuko stopped. He wasn’t fourth anymore, was he? Lu Ten was dead, and Uncle was not going to have another heir any time soon. If Father got his way, Zuko would be second in line. The idea left him reeling.

He tightened his grip on his swords, wondering who else Agni would kill to put him on the throne. He needed time to think. A vein pulsed in Zuko’s forehead as he heard the tell-tale clanging of armor behind him. 

Unfortunately, Lu Ten couldn’t take a hint. 

“It’s a little late for sword practice, don’t you think?” Lu Ten said. He nodded politely to the servants as Zuko drifted past them, but they didn’t seem to notice him. His cousin frowned. “You shouldn’t practice without Master Piandao’s supervision. You could hurt yourself.”

“Leave me alone!” Zuko shouted. He swiped out with his sword. The blade passed through Lu Ten’s spectral form, and he disappeared with a puff of smoke. A hollow sense of unease settled in Zuko's chest. He let the swords fall to his side. The servants scattered like pigeon-mice, leaving him alone in the hall. 

The courtyard was, fortunately, empty. 

A few turtleducks floated aimlessly in the pond. Others were huddled together on the shore, tucked away for the night. They woke as he approached, quacking and splashing with their wings in a mad dash to get away. Zuko sighed. Ever since the fall, most animals were skittish of him, even when he offered them food. He had managed to catch the injured chick long enough to treat its wing, but it threw such a fit that he was forced to let it go. What had he done to lose their trust?

Mother would worry when she realized he wasn't in his room. He probably should have waited for her to check in on him before sneaking off. Oh, well. Everything was clearer in hindsight. 

Zuko laid his swords gently on the ground. He knelt by the edge of the pond and lit the candles that he now kept there. They illuminated the cracked stones in an orange glow. The blood had been long since cleared away, but Zuko still found himself averting his gaze. He stared out over the water, watching the reflection of the flame dance along the surface.

“Was this all part of your plan?” he asked the flame. “You want me to be Fire Lord, so you killed Lu Ten to get rid of the competition?”

The flames grew in response to his anger. 

“I don’t understand, Agni! Why _me_?” Zuko snapped. “I’m worthless. You would have been better off choosing my sister! Or my cousin, before you killed him! Why have you blessed me but forsaken the rest of my family?”

Agni, as expected, did not respond. Zuko punched the ground and cursed when he bruised his knuckles. Thankfully, there was no one around to see him embarrass himself.

“Forget it,” he said, clutching his hand. “I don’t need you. Master Piandao manages just fine without fire, and so can I!”

Zuko retrieved his swords. He shifted into a familiar stance. When he used his swords, Zuko became a different person. His eyes could barely see in the dim light, but his feet were sure as they guided him through the forms. The dao wove an intricate pattern in the air. They struck down invisible enemies, and with each imaginary victory Zuko felt his grin grow wider.

He remembered the spinning kick that Azula had performed for Grandfather. With confident steps, he surged forward. He slashed out with the swords as leapt, laughing as a breeze carded through his hair.

His ankle twisted beneath him as he landed. Zuko fell to the ground in a heap, skinning his hands and knees. 

“Okay,” he sighed, defeated. He looked down at his palms, which which we now raw and red. “Maybe I do still need you.”

Slow, rhythmic clapping echoed throughout the courtyard. Zuko groaned. He pushed himself up until he was sitting upright in the most dignified position he could manage.

“Bravo!” Azula stepped into the candlelight. The orange glow danced like fire in her eyes. “I’ve never seen a more entertaining fall. Encore, encore!”

”Go away,” Zuko said. “I’m not in the mood.”

‘“Aw, don’t be like that.” Azula crouched beside him, stabbing into his side with her bony knees. “Looks like we get to test your immortality after all!” 

Zuko glared at her. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Dad’s going to kill you,” she chirped. “Really, he is.”

“Haha,” Zuko said. “Nice try.”

“Fine, don’t believe me. But I heard everything. Grandfather said Dad’s punishment should fit his crime. He must know the pain of losing his firstborn, so he must sacrifice his own!” She reached over and poked his nose. “And I, for one, can’t wait to watch.”

“Liar!” 

“I’m only telling you for your own good,” Azula said. “I know! Maybe Agni will protect you. Since you’re his chosen one or whatever.”

Zuko rose to a crouch, defensive. “That’s not how it works!”

“We’ll never know until we try, will we?" Azula said it so simply. Everything was a game to her. "Maybe you only have limited lives. Third time’s the charm and all that.”

“Stop it!" Zuko shouted. "You’re lying! Dad would never do that to me!”

Azula stood. She tiptoed playfully around him, as if they were playing instead of discussing murder. “I don’t envy you when Grandfather finds out what the servants have been saying about you," she said. "Even if you manage to survive this, he’ll have you imprisoned for treason.”

Zuko’s heart stuttered. “Are you going to tell him?”

“No.” Azula examined her nails. “I’m sure it will much more entertaining when it comes out on its own. Which I suspect will happen soon enough.”

“He’ll never find out. Because he’s not going to kill me.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night," she told him, already walking away.“For what it’s worth, I hope you come back after whatever he decides to do to you. When I take the throne, I want to at least give you a chance to fight for it.”

Zuko stared at her back as she left. He failed to find any comfort in her words.

~~_Uncle Iroh,_ ~~

~~_I know you think Lu Ten is dead but he’s not. Well, he is. But he’s also here with me? Because I’m the one true Firelord? I’m sorry this made much more sense in my head._ ~~

~~_Dearest Uncle,_ ~~

~~_You know how you’ve been on a spiritual journey to find your son? Good news! The search is over. Bad news! I stabbed his ghost with a sword and now I think he’s mad at me._ ~~

~~_Esteemed Uncle,_ ~~

~~_I regret to hear that you’ve abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se. I was really looking forward to being Governor._ ~~

~~_Uncle,_ ~~

~~_Lu Ten won’t shut up about jasmine tea. Why did you raise him to be like this? I hate jasmine tea. It’s just hot leaf water it’s NOT THAT SPECIAL_~~

“Your Highness?”

Panicked, Zuko crumpled the scroll in his fist and set it on fire for good measure. Lu Ten's ghost still lingered at the edges of his vision, but ever since the incident in the hall, his cousin hadn't spoken to him. Either way, Zuko figured he should tell Uncle Iroh. He was on the fourth draft of his letter and still had no success. Needless to say, it was difficult to tell a man that his only beloved son was both undead and a nuisance.

“Yes?” he called out, having finally composed himself. The burned servant girl stepped into his room. Zuko really ought to learn her name. Two armored guards flanked her on each side.

“Firelord Azulon wishes to see you,” she said. 

“Oh,” Zuko replied. His mouth was suddenly very dry. “Did he say what for?”

“No. Only that it was of dire importance that you meet him in his chambers at once.”

Surely it was a coincidence. Grandfather wouldn’t order him to be killed. The idea was laughable.

But what if it wasn’t?

“Thank you for letting me know,” Zuko said. Escape plans buzzed in his mind against his will. “I will go see him as soon as I get dressed.”

“We were told to escort you,” the servant said. Her voice was kind, but the guards behind her tightened their grips on their spears. “But please, take your time, my prince. We will wait outside.”

“Okay.” Zuko tried not let his disappointment show. He watched them, wary. When the door was shut, he let his face fall into his hands, his fingers digging into his hair.

“Azula always lies,” he whispered to himself. “She's lying!”

“What was that, Prince Zuko?” the servant called from outside.

“Nothing!”

He scrambled to his feet and picked a robe at random. His hands shook so badly that he could barely get them through the sleeves. He tried to fix his hair in his normal Phoenix Plume, but he kept messing up in his panic. Grandfather would not tolerate shabbiness, whether or not he had ordered to kill him. Embarrassed, Zuko peeked his head out into the hall.

“Um,” he said, addressing the servant girl. He gestured toward his hair. “Can you help me?”

The servant laughed when she saw the mess he had made of it, but quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “It would be my honor, Your Highness.”

She made short work of the Phoenix Plume, smoothing it until it looked better than anything he had ever attempted on his own. She even arranged a few strands to cover Agni’s mark without being prompted. 

“What’s your name?” Zuko asked as the servant placed his hair piece. It might be his last time to ask.

She froze for a moment, clearly not expecting it. But then her lips twitched briefly in a smile.

“Asa,” she said.

“Asa,” he repeated. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

_I'm sorry my sister burned you_ , he wanted to say, but it was probably a bad time.

She chuckled. “We have met before, Your Highness.”

“Yes, I know,” Zuko said. Asa offered him her hand to help him stand, and he accepted. “But now it’s official.”

“It is a pleasure to know you, as well,” she said. Asa gestured for him to lead the way. “We have kept the Firelord waiting long enough, don’t you think?”

The door to the Firelord’s chambers towered above him. Zuko crossed his arms, hugging them tightly against his chest.

_Azula always lies_ , he reminded himself. There was no reason to be worried.

“Asa?” 

“Yes, my prince?”

“Could you bring us some jasmine tea?” Zuko asked. “Grandfather used to love when Lu Ten would make it for him.”

Asa stared at him a little too long for comfort. Her eyes settled on his fingers, which were clenched around the fabric of his robes. “Of course. Anything for His Royal Majesty.”

With Asa gone, the guards were a lot less patient. They ushered him into the room and shut the door behind him without another word. Zuko stumbled forward but quickly managed to right himself. 

“Ah, Prince Zuko,” Grandfather said. He was seated at a small table in the center of his room. Father sat across from him, pointedly not looking at his son. “Please. Join us.”

Zuko took his place at the table, resisting the urge to smooth his hair or adjust his robes. He looked fine. Everything was fine.

Grandfather smiled at him. He gestured toward a platter piled high with fruit tarts that had been placed in the center of the table. Each was decorated intricately and dusted with rose petals. It was far too elaborate for such a casual meeting, but Zuko wasn't about to complain. He took one, watching the Firelord's face for any sign of disapproval.

"Help yourself, child," Grandfather said. "You like fruit tarts, correct?"

Strange. Their relationship was never this casual. Grandfather was never this _happy_. It was almost unnerving.

"They're my favorite," Zuko answered. "Mother and I make them together. It always startles the servants when they find us in the kitchens."

Grandfather chuckled, but Father remained silent. Zuko tried not to let it bother him. The man was probably feeling awkward after his slip up with the Firelord yesterday. Zuko took a bite of the pastry. He barely resisted the urge to groan in delight as cherry filling entered his mouth. Various spices blended together into something wonderful that warmed him to his core. The other men waited in silence as Zuko finished the dessert and reached for another one. Neither ate. They must not care much for sweets. 

Finally, their quiet staring became too much to bear. “Why did you want to see me?” Zuko asked.

“I have heard so much about your sister lately that I thought it best to check in with you as well.” Grandfather gave Father a pointed look. Zuko pretended not to notice. “Tell me, how are your lessons going?“

“I’m getting really good with swords!” Zuko said. As he spoke, Asa returned with tea. Zuko accepted his cup with a nod of thanks, but didn’t dare drink it. With his luck, he would end up spilling it all over himself. He noticed Father turn his nose up at his own cup of tea. The apple must not fall far from the tree, as far as drink preferences go. “Master Piandao says I am a natural with the dual dao.”

“That’s good, Prince Zuko. The art of the sword is an interesting hobby to pursue,” Grandfather said. “But be sure not to dedicate too much time to it. Tell me, was that pitiful display of firebending I witnessed yesterday really all you can do?”

Zuko looked down. He traced the edge of his tea cup with his finger. “I am not progressing nearly as fast with bending as I am with swords,” he said carefully. “But my instructors say I’m almost ready to move on to the next form.”

“Didn’t your sister master that form months ago? I will inform Piandao to cancel your sword lessons. Firebending should have been your first priority.“

“But—“ Grandfather gave him a sharp look, and Zuko held his tongue. “Of course. I should focus all of my attention on mastering the next fire form.”

Grandfather sipped his tea. He clutched his cup like a lifeline. “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” he said.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” Zuko said. “Why else would you cancel my lessons with Piandao if not to have me focus more on firebending?”

“There will be no more lessons for you. Not fire. Not swords. Not academics or etiquette. You will not be leaving this room ever again, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko scrambled back from the table. “Azula was right,” he realized. “Oh, Agni, she wasn’t lying. You’re going to kill me!”

“Your father has disrespected your uncle and has therefore disrespected me." Grandfather said. "He must know the loss of a son so that he can better understand his brother's plight. “ 

“I have done nothing wrong!” Zuko cried. “I am your loyal grandson!“

Firelord Azulon stood to his full height. Zuko felt so very small in comparison. 

“You are loyal, my boy. As am I. But as descendants of Sozin, our loyalty lies with what is best for the Fire Nation, not our own sakes,” Grandfather said. “I wanted to be kind about it, but I am realizing that there is no kind way to do this. Prolonging it further would only be more cruel. Now stand. Face your death with dignity.“

Slowly, Zuko rose to his feet. He watched his Father out of the corner of his eye as the man did the same. 

“Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa, I sentence you to death for the crimes of your father. You have lived your life honorably. Take comfort in the knowledge that this is through no fault of your own,” Grandfather announced. “May Agni welcome you with open arms.”

The sharp smell of ozone filled the air. Zuko spun around to face his Father as he lowered into an unfamiliar form. If he didn't know better, Zuko would have mistaken his expression for a smirk.

The doors burst open. Mother rushed in with Asa close on her heels. Guards rushed after them, just a tad too late to catch them. Zuko grinned with relief. He started toward her. In an instant, a sharp, burning pain shot through his chest. Blinding white light filled his vision. He screamed and stumbled back until he was able to slump against the wall. 

There was a loud thump as a body hit the ground, and it took Zuko entirely too long to realize that it wasn’t his own. 

A chorus of shouts rose up throughout the Firelord's chambers. Zuko sank to the floor, tumbling down onto his side. He curled up, trying and failing to shy away from the pain. His fingers clawed at his chest as if ripping his heart out would be a less painful alternative.

Zuko wheezed. Unconsciousness threatened to drag him under, but he kept his eyes open by sheer force of will. Grandfather was on the ground. Father knelt by his side, feeling for a pulse as a guard whispered something in his ear. A tea cup lay in shards around them.

Someone scooped Zuko into their arms. He closed his eyes. Sound was starting to cut in and out as he drifted. “ _Agni_ ,” Mother cried. Zuko felt her shaking hands as they fluttered around the wound on his chest. “My boy—“

“I’m sorry, my prince.” Asa’s voice was thick was tears. “I’m so sorry. I was too late.”

”W-“ Zuko’s tongue wouldn’t cooperate with him, laying heavy and unresponsive in his mouth. “Why?”

“Guards!” Father yelled. “Arrest the girl for the murder of Fire Lord Azulon! And lock up the boy as well. He was conspiring with the servants to assassinate the Firelord!”

What? There was a conspiracy all right, but not one that Zuko took an active part in. It wasn't like he asked to be mistaken as some kind of savior! He tried to argue but all that came out was a feeble whine.

Fingers tightened on his shoulders as heavy-booted footsteps approached. Someone yelled. Someone sobbed. Zuko wanted to do both, but found he no longer had the energy for either.

Pain flared in his chest as he was pulled from Mother’s arms. Darkness overtook his vision, and he remembered no more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, eating pastries as his family plots to murder him: this is fine


	3. Chapter 3

Zuko opened his eyes.

It was dark. So dark that he questioned if had actually opened his eyes at all. The floor beneath him was hard, but his head was cushioned on something warm that smelled faintly of jasmine and laundry soap. Someone stroked his face. They spoke to him, but he couldn’t understand the words. 

His chest burned. He coughed against his will, and the movement did something _awful_ to his torso. Pain tore through him as if his Father’s lighting had never left.

The darkness pulled at his mind. He let it take him —and his misery— away once more.

Yet again, Zuko didn't wake alone. Someone was snoring softly in sleep, close enough that Zuko could feel the gentle heat from their body. He blinked to adjust to the darkness, but it made no difference. He couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face.

The air reeked of smoke and the sickly-sweet smell of infection. Zuko patted at his chest. His shirt was gone. In its place was a piece of fabric wrapped tightly over the wound near his heart. The cloth was damp. Whether it was from blood or sweat, he wasn't sure.

Where was he? Zuko pushed up off the cool stone of the floor, intending to get his bearings, but quickly discovered that standing didn't agree with him. He fell back to the ground with a pained grunt. 

"Prince Zuko?"

Zuko furrowed his brow. He knew that voice, didn't he? His thoughts seemed to fly out of his head the moment they were formed. He hummed an affirmative.

A hand blindly patted his shoulders and face until it settled on his forehead. There was a sharp intake of breath. "You are burning up,” she said. “We need a healer in here!"

The last part was yelled in the general direction of what Zuko assumed was the exit. No one responded. Zuko heard a muttered string of curses as his companion adjusted the cloth wrappings across his chest.

"Asa?" he managed to ask. His voice was scratchy from lack of use. "What happened?"

"Firelord Azulon is dead." 

"What? No!" Zuko tried to sit up, but she held him down.

"Rest, my prince. I do not know how you have managed to survive a direct lightning strike so far. We better not risk it," she said. "But yes, your grandfather is dead. Firelord Ozai has taken his place. " 

"Father is Firelord?" he asked. "What about Uncle?"

"I am not sure. I only know what I can manage to overhear from the guards," Asa explained. "No one is stationed outside the door, but they have stopped by to give us water and bring down new prisoners. As far as I can tell, this block is filled to the brim with servants. The Firelord fears that his staff plots against him."

"Oh." Zuko frowned, remembering the last words he heard before he passed out. "Father said you killed Grandfather, and that I helped. That's crazy! Why would he think such a thing?"

"Because it is true," she said, as if it were obvious. "I poisoned the tea."

Zuko flinched away from her. "No," he said. "That's not funny."

"It is not a joke," Asa insisted. "Azula had been bragging to those friends of hers about how she was going to be an only child. I did not think much of it at the time, because she is just _like that_ , you know? But then I saw how scared you were before your meeting with Azulon.”

Zuko clenched his fist, uncomprehending.

“You hate jasmine. I knew you would not drink it,” she continued. “But I knew the Firelord would. The only unfortunate thing is that the guards heard you ask for the tea. They think you were involved."

"You killed my grandfather!" Zuko spat. "How could you?"

"They were going to kill you!"

"What about Father? What if he drank the tea?"

"Good riddance, I say." There was a darkness to Asa's tone that he had never heard before. She was being open with him in a way that servants so rarely were. "With Iroh gone and those two tyrants dead, Agni's will would finally be established. You would have been Firelord, Zuko! I only regret that I acted too late."

"How dare you attack my family and then act like you've done me some kind of favor!" 

Zuko was starting to feel lightheaded, but he refused to fall asleep beside his grandfather's killer. He used the wall to pull himself to his feet. His hand trailed along the slick metal, pausing to examine each bolt and seam where the pieces had been welded together. He felt a hinge and then a small window, too tiny to fit through. It was blocked off with what Zuko assumed was a sliding panel. He couldn't get a good enough grip to slide it open. There was no handle anywhere on the inside of the door.

"It is no use," Asa said. "I have tried everything."

Zuko scoffed. Asa wasn't a firebender.

He willed a small flame to form in his hands. It pulsed, a tiny flicker-beat in sync with his own heart. He put as much energy as he dared into it, urging it to grow hotter and stronger. He pressed the flame against the door. The metal glowed a violent and dangerous red, but it wasn't enough to melt through. 

He wasn't strong enough.

The flames sputtered out. Zuko stumbled, suddenly feeling very faint. Walking was slow and painful, but he managed to drag himself over to the other end of their small cell, ignoring the dizziness that increased with each step. He curled up against the wall, letting the cool metal soothe his feverish skin.

"Prince--"

"Don't talk to me!" Zuko interrupted.Thoughts of betrayal and heartache raged inside him, only quieted when his body finally won the war over his mind. He fell back asleep.

Zuko woke in a haze. 

Footsteps slapped against the floor. His body jostled. Fingers dug into his arms and legs as someone held him in a bridal carry. Zuko looked up at his mother. She was crying. He tried to wipe the tears from her face, but his hand wouldn’t obey him. It remained limp and lifeless on his stomach. 

“This way!” Asa hissed. She lead them up a stone staircase. Zuko felt his connection to Agni strengthen with each step they climbed. 

The burn in his chest had faded to an ache, but somehow he felt worse. Ugly and raw and so very wrong. A clinging sickness had wormed its way through his veins. Lethargy clawed at him, trying to drag him back under, but he forced his eyes to stay open.

A door creaked at the top of the stairs. Mother backpedaled. They sprinted back down the way they came. All the running made his wound ache, but Zuko was too tired to protest. 

The booted footsteps of approaching soldiers cornered them against the staircase. With nowhere else to go, Asa forced open a side door and lead them to a small storage room. It must have been overflow from the armory, because the walls were lined with weapons and other materials. Mother laid him on the ground, uncomfortably close to a barrel of blasting jelly.

He desperately wanted to stay close to her, but he could do nothing but lay limply on the floor. Shivers danced along his spine. His breaths came in short, painful gasps, and tears welled up in eyes against his will. Mother smoothed back his hair. Zuko leaned into the touch, relieved by her cool hand.

"It's getting worse," she said, frowning as she felt his sweat-slicked skin. Zuko's attention drifted to Lu Ten, who sat cross-legged by his side, focused like a sentry on watch duty. When he noticed Zuko staring, he offered a small smile.

"It's going to be okay, cousin," he said. "Agni still has plans for you."

Zuko wasn't comforted. He didn't _want_ to be a part of Agni's twisted plan. All he wanted to do was sleep, spirits be damned.

Asa crouched down, overlapping the space Lu Ten occupied. Neither seemed to notice. "But he was doing so much better!" she cried. "He was walking and talking just yesterday!"

Asa reached down to stroke his face. Zuko flinched away.

"The calm before the storm," Mother said. "The body is a fickle thing. I can't believe Ozai wouldn't let him see a healer. He practically signed his own son's death warrant."

Zuko stared at her, trying to convey all the love he had for her with only his eyes. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. Message received.

"Sleep, Zuko. We'll come back for you," she promised, urgent. "I swear on my life. I'll be back."

_Where are you going?_ he tried to ask, but all that came out was a half-formed whisper. Mother seemed to understand.

"They'll find us, sooner rather than later. We can't keep running anymore." She stood and offered her hand to Asa. "Let's take the fight to them, shall we?"

"It would be my honor, Lady Ursa." 

Asa accepted Mother's hand. She perused the weapons on the wall until her eyes settled on the blasting jelly. Her lips split into a smile, bearing her teeth in a primal grin.

Their silhouetttes blended together as they passed through the doorway. Zuko watched them, transfixed. Everything was fuzzy around the edges like a dream. Asa stopped at the last moment. She adjusted her grip on the blasting jelly.

“You will understand one day, my prince,” she said without looking back. “I am not the bad guy here."

Time passed strangely after that. Zuko stared at the ceiling, but he didn’t see anything. His eyes grew heavy. No. He had to wait for Mother. She said she would be back. How long had it been now? He only knew time was passing because he kept feeling worse and worse. He started to drift off but shook himself awake.

He had to wait for Mother!

There was a disappointed sigh from beside him. Zuko barely felt Lu Ten's hand on his face before his eyelids were slid gently closed. Sleep welcomed him like an old friend.

The next time Zuko woke, he knew it was for good. His mind was clear for the first time in days. Energy pulsed through his veins. He stretched, arching his back like a pygmy-puma waking up from a sunny nap. There was a metallic clanging as his hand brushed the wall and disrupted the weapons that were displayed there.

His memories came flooding back to him, and Zuko bolted upright. The room was empty. An uneasy quiet had settled in the hall. He had no idea how long it had been since Mother and Asa left, and his own ignorance unnerved him more than anything else.

He peeled the cloth bindings from his chest, gagging when he saw the blood, sweat, and puss that stained fabric. It was the same pale red as Asa's dress. She must have torn her own clothes to care for him. He still couldn’t bring himself to feel bad for yelling at her. She killed his grandfather, for Agni’s sake. He couldn’t just forgive her for that.

The skin over his heart had been marked with the royal flame. It was larger than the one on his forehead, pink and wrinkled like an old scar. His skin looked like it had been branded. Agni wanted everyone to know that Zuko was his. Like a dragon marking its territory. Zuko just wished he had a shirt.

Firelight glimmered off steel, catching his eye. Dual dao were displayed on the wall. He took them down, feeling their weight. They were bigger than he was used to, but they would do in a pinch.

He paused. Why did he need swords again? His fever-tinged memories were fuzzy, but he was pretty sure he was only in prison because Father thought he was involved Grandfather’s death. Surely if he explained himself he could sort this whole mess out? 

Still, he kept the swords. They were nicer than his own anyway.

A deafening _boom_ sounded from somewhere above him, knocking dust loose from the ceiling. Zuko ran from the room. He crept up the stairs, heart hammering in his chest. The sharp tang of blasting jelly assaulted his nose as he opened the door.

Asa was lying on the ground, face down. Smoke rose in lazy tendrils from her dress. She was alive, if only barely. Her breathing was nothing more than a shallow, painful wheeze that made Zuko's heart ache.

Around her, half a dozen guards were in various stages of consciousness. Some rolled on the floor, cursing as they clutched their wounded limbs. Others had blistered, bloodied skin, their chests unmoving. Zuko’s stomach turned. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Asa.

“Finally, the traitor prince arrives!”

Zuko jumped. An armored guard pushed himself off the wall. He appeared unwounded except for a shallow strip of burned skin along his cheek. He was a large man, taller and broader than Father. Zuko shifted his weight, unsure whether to run or fight.

“I figured you would show up here. We’ve been tearing the castle apart to find you, kid,” the man said. “Just wait until the Firelord gets ahold of you. I’m sure it will turn out something like that.”

The guard nudged Asa’s body with his boot. Zuko’s blood boiled. 

“Foolish girl,” the guard said. “She brought fuel to a firefight. Got herself messed up to protect a worthless brat like you.”

Zuko knelt by her side. He pressed his fingers against her throat, relieved when he felt a surprisingly steady pulse. “She needs a healer,” he told the guard.

“Traitors don’t deserve healers,” the guard said. “But you’re gonna need one when I’m through with you.” 

“I can explain!” Zuko said. “I wasn’t involved in Grandfather’s death. I had no idea. I swear!”

“Your accomplice is out of commission. Now it's just your word against the Firelord’s, and you aren’t the one writing my paycheck.” The man stepped toward Zuko with a menacing sneer. “Coward! You ordered that girl to do your dirty work, and now you won’t even admit it.”

The guard punched out, shooting a stream of fire at Zuko’s face. Zuko sidestepped and readied his swords. 

“Just let me talk to my father,” Zuko gasped. “I’ll explain everything.” 

The guard laughed. “Oh, I’ll take you to your dad. But trust me, you aren’t gonna like how that conversation goes. Lady Ursa sure didn’t.”

Zuko surged forward. He pinned the guard’s neck between his swords. The man blinked in surprise. A trickle of blood ran down his throat, barely nicked by the blade.

“Where is my mother?” Zuko demanded.

"I have no idea," the man said. "That's above my paygrade. But I guarantee you will never see her again."

“She didn’t do anything wrong! Surely Father understands—”

“The Firelord understands the situation just fine. Lady Ursa broke two known traitors out of the dungeon. She attacked several of her own guards. She conspired with Azulon’s killer!”

The guard grabbed the blade at his throat with one hand and sent fire toward Zuko's stomach with the other. Zuko stumbled back, forced to let go of the sword. The man kept attacking, giving Zuko no time to get his bearings as he dodged blast after blast.

"It's not working!" Lu Ten yelled. He flickered in and out of Zuko's peripheral. "Try something else!"

He gave up on dodging and used his hands to part the fire to either side of him. In the brief moment that he was blinded by flame, the man rushed him and pinned him to the wall. Zuko squirmed. His wrist was bent backwards until he was forced to drop his remaining sword.

“You’ve got spine, I’ll give you that,” the man said. He leaned in close, a note of approval in his eye. “A few more years and you would have made a fine soldier. Too bad you lost sight of your loyalties.”

Zuko looked him square in the eye. “My loyalty is to the Firelord.”

“If only your father had been in the mood for tea. All your dreams would have come true! From fourth in line to Firelord in less than a month,” the man said. “Agni, I thought your sister was a monster. She’s got nothing on you.”

Zuko could hear more footsteps coming down the hall. He fought against the man’s hold. The grip around his wrist tightened until his bones creaked. 

“Firelord Ozai wants you alive, but he didn’t say you had to be unharmed. Your accomplice got burned up pretty bad. How about I make you match? That’s only fair, right?”

The guard raised his free hand so that it hovered over Zuko’s face. Sparks jumped at his fingertips.

“It’s not over yet!” Lu Ten shouted. He attempted to get between Zuko and the guard, but his ghostly hand passed right through the man's skin. Zuko didn’t dare take his attention off of the immediate danger. “He might be bigger and stronger, but you’ve still got fire. Remember your basics!”

Zuko took a deep breath. He let it out. Breathed again. Out. In. Out. He slid his foot along the floor, sending a burst of fire at the guard's feet. The man cursed and retreated, but Zuko didn’t stop. He sent blast after blast, forcing the man back until he was pressed against the opposite wall. Zuko held out his fist, aimed for the man’s face in a cruel reversal of their earlier position.

Heat coiled in his gut. There was so much energy roaring inside him. Too much. It wanted, _needed_ to be let out. He punched out at the man, intending to blast him with a little bit of fire, enough to distract him so that he could run and find Mother. 

Instead, he created an inferno.

Fire exploded from Zuko’s fist. The guard screamed. He clutched at his face. Charred, blistered skin could be seen through the gaps in his fingers. Zuko’s stomach turned at the smell of burnt flesh. He swallowed, trying to keep from vomiting. 

He didn’t mean to do that! He wasn’t Azula. He didn’t burn people! It was like the fire acted on its own, a caged creature desperate to be set free. The footsteps were closer now. There was nowhere for Zuko to run. 

“What in Agni’s name is going on here?” 

Zuko flinched. He knew that voice.

“Does it really take seven grown men this long to deal with a little girl?” Father snapped. He rounded the corner, surrounded by an entourage of soldiers.The Firelord stopped and surveyed the scene. Zuko realized how bad this looked. Unconscious guards littered the floor by his feet. Asa got most of them, but Father didn’t know that. Zuko’s hand still smoked from his last attack.

“I’m not a traitor,” Zuko pleaded. “I’m not a traitor, I’m _not_ —“

Father remained silent as the guards tugged Zuko’s arms behind his back. The man's eyes were razor-focused on the mark on Zuko’s chest that replaced the deep wound that had been there a few minutes before.

"You should be dead," Father said. Zuko had never seen him so bewildered. "How are you not dead?"

Zuko opened his mouth to explain, then thought better of it. There was no way to describe the situation that didn't make him sound like he was after the throne. Besides, he didn't really understand any of this spirit nonsense himself.

"Lock him up," Father ordered. "I'll deal with him later."

As the guards dragged him away, Zuko locked eyes with Father. Strangely enough, the man almost looked proud.

The dungeons were freezing. 

Zuko hadn’t noticed the first time. He had been so feverish and out of focus that if anything, the room had felt much too hot. He huddled in the center of the cell, as far from the cool metal walls as he could get. Cuffs encircled his ankles and wrists. The guards had chained him to the wall like some kind of criminal.

His stomach felt like it was going to devour itself. He had been down here long enough to grow hungry, but he hadn’t heard a peep from the guards since they locked him in here. Part of him was relieved to have time to think, to figure out what he was going to say to Father.

The other part of him really missed his bed.

“Ozai is a piece of shit, you know that?” Lu Ten sat cross legged on the ground in front of him. Despite the pitch blackness of the room, he was still visible, glowing with a faint, golden aura. Zuko could feel the anger coming off of the spirit like a physical force.

Zuko shook his head. 

“He’s not. I burned that guard,” he said, choked. “If Grandfather taught me anything, it's that crimes must be answered for.”

“You were defending yourself! That is nothing to be punished for. Ozai is out of line,” Lu Ten said. “Not to mention what happened to that poor servant girl.”

“She brought it on herself! Asa is a traitor!”

“What about your mother?”

Mother broke a murderer out of prison. But she wasn’t a traitor. She couldn't be a traitor. Could she?

Zuko said nothing. Shivers wracked his frame. He curled in on himself, trying to hide from the cold and his own confused thoughts.

Lu Ten seemed to understand that he wasn’t going to get anymore out of him. “We have got to get you warm,” he said. “It’s about time I taught you some new moves, anyway.”

“I can’t firebend,” Zuko complained. He tugged at the bindings on his wrists. "How am I supposed to learn anything like this?"

“You don’t need hands to firebend.” Lu Ten’s face broke into a grin. “Do you want to learn why they call my father the Dragon of the West?”

Smoke filled his mouth and lungs. He bent over, coughing. Lu Ten patted his back in a show of support, but Zuko shrugged him off.

"This is such bullshit!" he shouted. Lu Ten's foul mouth, straight from the front lines, was already starting to rub off on him. "Is this even a real technique?"

“Aw, don't be like that. You’ve almost got it!“ Lu Ten cheered. “Have some patience, my young pupil."

Zuko glared at him. "I'll take my patience and stick it up your--"

"Okay! Let's take another go at it," Lu Ten interrupted. "Unless you'd rather sit here in the cold..."

Zuko took a deep breath and tried again.

Days passed. Without sunlight to guide him, he measured time by the meals that were shoved through a small slot in the door. Eating was difficult with his hands in restraints, and he ended up making a mess of it. Lu Ten disappeared during these times, saving Zuko the embarrassment of being watched. 

Grandfather did not offer the same courtesy. He stood in the corner of the cell, a silent specter. For days, he had yet to speak, but Zuko could feel his judgement from across the room.

Zuko tried his best to ignore him. He took in a deep breath and urged the air to grow larger and hotter inside him as it circled his core. He breathed out. There was still smoke, but this time it all went outside of his mouth and not in. A gentle flame shot through his teeth. 

“Yes!” Lu Ten cheered, reappearing suddenly. “Way to go, cousin!”

Zuko smiled, but it felt like a hollow victory. He cut off the flame. Within seconds, the chill began to seep back in.

"I was wrong about you, my boy."

Zuko whipped around to face his Grandfather's spirit. "Wrong about what?" he asked.

"Breathing fire is no easy skill to accomplish. You have great potential, both as a bender and as a person. I see that now." Grandfather bowed his head in apology. "I have caused you enough heartache. Your Father is walking a dangerous line, and I was wrong to harm you in an attempt to harm him. I will leave you now and let you live your life in peace."

Grandfather vanished. Zuko stared at the place he had stood a moment before. An idea popped into his mind, filling him with hope for the first time since he was imprisoned. 

"Where do you go when you disappear like that?" Zuko asked.

"The Spirit World, I suppose," Lu Ten said. "Although I haven't really had a chance to look around."

"Oh," Zuko said, trying not to sound too disappointed. "What about when you are in this world? Can you travel?"

"You want me to look for your mother," Lu Ten guessed. Zuko nodded. "I don't think I can. It's like something is tethering me to you, keeping me from going to far."

Zuko paled. "I'm not keeping you trapped here, am I?" he asked, worried. "I don't want to keep you from eternal peace or whatever is out there for us when we die."

"Honesty? I don't know. But I don't have a strong desire to be anywhere other than by your side," Lu Ten said. He carded his fingers through Zuko's hair. "After all, someone has to look after you."

Zuko leaned against his cousin and let himself be comforted. 

He started to lose track of the days. His life became a blur of sleeping, eating, and fire-breathing to keep warm. If he didn't have Lu Ten for company, he didn't think his sanity would have survived.

Zuko wasn't sure if the other cells had occupants until the screaming started. One by one, the arrested servants began to wail and call out for Agni. After spending so long in the cold and dark, they were losing their fire. Fear was so familiar to him that it barely even registered anymore. Agni gave him life. Literally. He didn't want to imagine what would happen to him if he lost his connection to the sun.

Zuko kept a steady flame going between his lips, stopping only to take in another breath. He relished in the warmth, letting the fire chase away the cold that was starting to harden around his heart.

The screams eventually faded out. The last of the imprisoned firebenders succumbed to their sunless prison. Many meal times later, Zuko's flame was still going strong. 

A tight grip on his shoulder startled him awake. Panicked, Zuko spat fire, driving the attacker back. He blinked away the last traces of sleep. Light spilled in from the hall, illuminating his Father's startled face as he stood over him. Father reached up to extinguish a small flame that has started in his hair.

The last traces of heat felt like ashes on Zuko's tongue. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t—“

Zuko cut himself off. Nothing he could say would make a difference now. He bowed his head, awaiting punishment.

He waited for Father to yell. To strike him. Agni, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Father walked out without a word, leaving him in here to rot. Instead, Father did the one thing Zuko never expected.

He laughed.

"Since when did you have so many tricks up your sleeves?" Father knelt down to Zuko's level. His face was open. Friendly, even. Zuko barely recognized it. “Your instructors lead me to believe you were talentless. However, as I look at you now, all I can see is potential.”

Zuko watched him, wary. 

Firelord Ozai continued. “For such a chatty bunch, it took a long time for me to get the servants to talk,” he explained. “But all things eventually break. They told me something incredible. You truly cannot die?”

Father was looking at him like he looked at Azula. Zuko couldn't help but preen a little under the attention.

“It appears not,” Zuko admitted. “I should be dead three times over.” 

"Agni has given us a gift, my son. It would be a shame not to make the most of it," Father said. "How would you like to start training with me personally?"

Zuko gaped. Not even Azula trained one-on-one with Father. He hurriedly bowed. "I would be honored."

Father gestured to the guards. They released Zuko from his restraints. A weight lifted from his soul as the cuffs clattered against the ground. 

Father helped him stand. "Come, Zuko," he said. "You have nothing more to learn in here."

Zuko followed him out into the hall, squinting as he struggled to adjust to the bright lights. To his surprise, they stopped in front of another cell, just a few doors down from his own. A guard unlocked the door. Zuko was afraid to cross the threshold, but a nod from Father gave him the courage he needed to enter the cell.

A figure was huddled against the back wall, a hand held up defensively in front of her face. Her skin was blistered and bloody, and her eyes had a feral look to them that made her nearly unrecognizable.

“Asa,” Zuko croaked.

She didn’t respond. That wild gaze shifted between each of them in turn, finally settling on Father, as if she recognized him as the largest threat. 

"You claim to be loyal to the Fire Nation," Father said to him. "I have no doubts about that, but others might question your patriotism. Prove them wrong, Prince Zuko. Execute this traitor to the throne."

“What?” Zuko took a step back. Asa’s eyes were locked on him now. “You want me to kill her?”

“Is that a problem?" Father raised an eyebrow. The gesture was casual, but Zuko recognized the warning beneath it. "This peasant murdered your grandfather. Do you think death is too harsh a punishment?”

“No,” Zuko stammered. “I...I don’t know.”

“Would you have her live to murder me as well? What about your sister? Do you value this girl’s life over your family’s?”

“Of course not!”

“Consider this your first lesson as Crown Prince,” Father said. “A Firelord must act as judge, jury, and executioner. Only a coward would assign someone else to do his dirty work. Unless you would rather I do it?”

“No,” Zuko said. His voice dripped with false confidence. “I’ll do it.”

He stepped toward Asa. She held her chin up high, unblinking, unwavering. Her blistered skin was nauseating to look at, but Zuko didn't dare look away. He settled into a basic firebending stance and tried to control the shaking in his limbs.

"Wait." Father gently grabbed his elbow, adjusting his form. He nudged Zuko's foot until he widened his stance.

"Perfect," Father said. "This will become much more efficient once you learn the lightning technique, but if you strike hot and true, you can easily get the job done with fire alone.”

Zuko swallowed. He concentrated heat in his fist, but unlike with fire-breathing, the flame felt ugly and wrong. He pushed it away from himself, quick and sharp like an arrow. It struck true.

Father was right. You could get the job done with fire alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional manipulation? in my au? its more likely than you think
> 
> stay safe out there, ya'll


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko had always been taught that talent was forged through blood, sweat, and tears. He just never realized it would be so literal.

Fire filled the training yard, blossoming out from a strike by Zuko's fist. The flame was larger than he had ever seen Azula produce. Larger than he had ever seen _Father_ produce, although he didn't dare say it. Exhausted, he bent over with his hands on his knees as he hacked up bile. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it wasn't blood this time.

"You have to be better," Father said. "Again!"

Zuko wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and started through the next form. 

For three years, Zuko's life was commanded by the rising and setting of the sun. He lived and breathed fire. Zuko trained from dawn until dusk nearly without fail. Father had cancelled his lessons with Master Piandao. His swords became nothing more than a wall decoration. Dust had long since settled on the blades. His academic and etiquette instruction had been greatly reduced. 

"We are trying to win a war here," Father had said. "I don't need you to be well-read. I don't need you to be courteous. In a few years you will be ready to finish what your uncle started at Ba Sing Se, and I guarantee those walls won't break because you asked nicely."

Zuko's skin was almost constantly tender from minor burns. His fingers had permanent soot stains. When his breaths came in short, desperate gasps and his limbs shook until he could no longer move, a well-placed strike from Father would replace all of his aches and exhaustion with another royal flame scar on his chest. They overlapped the skin over his heart, turning the once pale mark into a deep burgundy.

Agni had given Zuko a gift after all. It would be a disservice to his citizens to not use his power to become the strongest firebender he could be. 

_I have to be better_ , he told himself. It became a well-worn mantra, the first thing he thought of when the sun broke the horizon and the last thing on his mind as he fell asleep. _I will be better._

Zuko had everything he had ever wanted. Purpose. Skill. Father's approval. He was honored. Happy, even, to be of service to his family and his nation.

But sometimes he really, really missed his mother.

Azula was laughing. That was rarely a good thing.

Zuko closed his eyes, focusing on the cool breeze on his face instead of the quiet _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of knives hitting one of the courtyard trees. He absentmindedly traced the engagement band that encircled his bicep. It was solid gold and intricate. The only imperfection was the small weld that held the two sides of the ring together. The band was tight against his skin, impossible to remove without destroying it.

It wasn't that he was avoiding Mai. Honest! But ever since Father arranged for them to be married, things had gotten awkward between them. He should be happy about the engagement. It meant that Father was serious about Zuko being his heir. An arranged marriage was a sign of political potential, a promise of the next generation of Sozin's line.

But that didn't make talking to her any less weird. He walked faster, hoping to pretend he never saw her.

Someone screamed. Zuko cursed his luck.

"Sorry!" Ty Lee squealed. She stood with her back pressed against a tree. A blade was embedded in the scarred bark an inch from her head. Mai stood a few yards away, already reaching for another knife. Azula sat in the grass beside them, watching the chaos with poorly concealed amusement. 

"Stay still!" Azula snapped. "If you keep jumping around, she'll end up cutting your ear off. I would just hate for that to happen to you."

"You're right," Ty Lee said. She smiled shakily. "I'll try harder."

"I don't care how hard you _try_ ," Azula said. "Just do better."

"Yes, Azula." 

"What are you waiting for, Mai?" Azula gestured impatiently. "Keep going!"

Mai sighed. She picked at the engagement band that encircled her own arm beneath her long sleeves, clearly not used to the tight metal. "We've been doing this all day," she complained. "I'm bored."

Azula examined her nails. She feigned disinterest, but her sharp tone left no room for argument. "Your aim is good. But it needs to be perfect. Anything less is an embarrassment to the Fire Nation."

Mai rolled her eyes. Thankfully, her back was to Azula. "Of course," she said. "Silly me."

Mai raised the knife above her head, poised to throw. Ty Lee flinched. Zuko hopped down into the courtyard. He ran between Mai and Ty Lee, waving his hands. 

"Stop!" he shouted. "What are you doing? Can't you see she's scared?"

All three girls turned to look at him. Azula stood. Her smile was tense. Fake. Zuko was getting better at reading her.

"My, my. It's not every day that my darling brother graces us with his presence," Azula said. "Tell me, did Dad finally get tired of you?"

"Father is very busy preparing for Uncle Iroh's return," he told her. "I was actually on my way to the training grounds to rehearse for our performance tomorrow. Care to join me?"

"As tempting as that offer sounds, I'll pass," she said. "I don't need practice to beat you."

"Lala," Zuko said, exasperated. "You and I both know that it's not an actual fight. We just need to show off to the nobles how good we are. I am literally begging you to stick to the choreography. "

"You aren't the boss of me,” she said. Zuko just barely resisted the urge to yell at her. “Ooh, I have an idea! Since you seem so eager to interrupt our training, how about you join us? Ty Lee could use a break anyway."

Ty Lee scratched her arm, sheepish. There was a rip in her sleeve where a knife had gotten too close. "I'm fine, really--"

Azula ignored her. "Unless you're scared, Zuzu?"

Zuko wasn't _scared_. He was the Crown Prince, after all. He didn't get scared.

"I'll do it," Zuko said. He ushered Ty Lee away from the tree and pressed his back against the bark. He looked up at Mai with a determined set to his jaw.

"Husband," Mai greeted, deadpan. 

Zuko nodded. "Wife."

They wouldn't wed for years to come, but until then, joking about it made the whole thing a bit less strange. 

"Aw," Ty Lee gushed. She sat down on the grass beside Azula. "You two are so cute together! I wish I was getting married."

"I wish I wasn't," Mai said. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what she said. "Uh, no offense."

Zuko waved her off. "None taken. I know how you feel," he said. "No offense to you, either."

Azula gagged. "Less flirting, more target practice."

Mai twirled the knife between her delicate fingers, once, twice. Sunlight glinted off the blade as it sailed through the air. Zuko felt the wind off of it as it struck half an inch from his throat. He didn't even blink.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Azula said. "Ty Lee, take notes. Zuzu doesn't care if he dies."

Mai gave him a sharp glance. "Is that true?"

Zuko shrugged. He had died so many times over the past three years that he lost count. It started to lose its bite after a while.

Azula held out her hand expectantly. "My turn!"

Mai handed her a throwing knife. Azula ran her finger along the blade, thinking. Something about the cold calculation in her eyes made Zuko's stomach turn.

"Have you ever thrown a knife before?" Ty Lee asked. "Not that I doubt your abilities, but isn’t this a bit unsafe?"

"Of course I’ve never thrown one. Who needs knives when you have firebending?" Azula replied. "But it can't be that hard."

Fear pulsed in Zuko's veins. He struggled to keep his face blank. "Go ahead," he said, getting in position. "I can't wait to see you embarrass yourself."

Azula glared at him. There was a darkness in her eyes, a fury, that caught him off guard. "And I can't wait to see you bleed!" 

She released the blade. It sailed end over end as if in slow motion. Zuko watched, transfixed, as it headed straight for the space between his eyes. His body screamed at him to move, but his knees locked in place. Dying was nothing new. The only thing different this time was the witnesses. 

Something slammed into Zuko's side. He hit the ground with enough force to take his breath away. Lu Ten rolled off of him, already climbing to his feet.

"What is wrong with you?" Lu Ten yelled. Zuko wasn't sure if it was directed at him or Azula. Probably both. 

Azula bent over. Her laughter was getting dangerously close to hysterics. "You should have seen your face!" she said. "I guess you are afraid to die after all!"

To the others, it must have looked like he leapt out of the way of his own accord. Zuko pushed himself up off the grass. He stared at his sister, speechless. Ty Lee and Mai shifted awkwardly, clearly not wanting to get involved.

Was she good enough to aim for his face, or was that a coincidence?

"You could have killed me!" Zuko hissed, finally finding his voice.

"Oh, please. You would have been fine," she said. She muttered something to herself that sounded suspiciously like 'It's not like I haven’t killed you before.'

Zuko stared at her.

"Come on, it was funny!" Azula looked at each of them in turn. Her face dropped when she realized no one else was laughing.

"Fine." She huffed. "Come on, girls. Help me pick out my outfit for the ceremony tomorrow. Or will that also upset your fragile sensibilities?"

Azula walked out without another word. Mai followed, but Ty Lee lagged behind. She hovered awkwardly at Zuko’s side.

"You don't have to let her treat you like that," she said.

Zuko shrugged. "Neither do you."

"No. But its easier this way." She stared after Azula's retreating form. There was something wistful on her face. "It's hard, isn't it? To love her?"

"Sometimes," Zuko admitted. "That's awful of me to say. She's my sister. Of course I love her, but..."

He trailed off. Azula was a lot. Too much to put into words. 

Ty Lee didn’t seem to have the same problem. "But sometimes you wonder if she's capable of loving you back?" she suggested. 

"Yeah."

They stood together in companionable silence, watching the smoke that curled from Azula’s fists as she slammed the palace doors behind her.

"It was nice talking to you, Zuzu," Ty Lee finally said. Her face turned bright pink. "Er, I mean Crown Prince Zuko."

He chuckled. First Lu Ten and now her. Azula’s nickname for him was beginning to catch on, unfortunately. "See you later," he said as she left. "Oh, and Ty Lee?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"For what its worth, I think Azula loves you, too,” Zuko said, earnest. “In her own way."

When Ty Lee smiled, she looked like the sun. Agni Himself paled in comparison. She gave him a quick nod and ran to catch up with her friends.

Zuko brushed the dirt from his robes and walked in the opposite direction. There was still a few more hours until sunset. If he was lucky, he would be able to train the entire time without distractions. Lu Ten followed after him, effortlessly keeping up with his brisk pace.

“You have got to start sticking up for yourself,” the spirit said.

Zuko sighed. “Spare me the lecture,” he said. They were happening almost daily. “I am not a child anymore. I don’t need you to babysit me. Feel free to move on with your life. Afterlife. Whatever.”

“You need me now more than you ever have,” Lu Ten insisted. “You’re just too caught up in Ozai’s bullshit to see it.”

Two servants walked by. Zuko kept quiet. The last thing he needed was a rumor to spread that the Crown Prince talked to himself.

“It is an honor to serve my father," he told Lu Ten once he was out of earshot. "Just watch. In a few years, I will be sitting on the Earth King’s throne. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“If you manage to take Ba Sing Se, I will be so proud of you,” Lu Ten said. “Honest. But right now, you are a candle burning at both ends. If you don’t slow down, there won’t be anything left.”

“You’re just jealous that I’m going to accomplish what you failed at!” Zuko stopped walking and faced his cousin. He pointed an accusing finger at Lu Ten’s chest. “You’re trying to sabotage me!”

“Listen to yourself!” Lu Ten shouted. “What could I possibly have to gain from that? I’m dead!”

“Exactly!" Zuko threw his hands up to emphasize his point. "You clearly failed at living, so why should I listen to a word you say?”

Lu Ten opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again. His face contorted in anger. 

“Is that what you really think of me?” he said, quiet. “You think I’m a failure?”

“Ba Sing Se remains in Earth Kingdom hands," Zuko pointed out. "Do you consider that a success?”

“I don’t have to put up with this, you know," Lu Ten snapped. There was a coldness in his tone, a warning. "Maybe Grandfather had the right idea.”

“Oh, yeah? Then maybe you should join him!”

“Maybe I will!”

Something about the way he said it shook Zuko to his core. He instantly regretted his words, but it was too late. When he reached out for his cousin, his fist closed around empty air. 

After everything that happened with Asa, the servants were no longer permitted to speak with him.

Zuko supposed it made sense. The old staff, before they were sent to the colonies and replaced, had some crazy idea that he was supposed to be Firelord. A misconception so dangerous that it lead to Grandfather’s death, Mother’s banishment, and Zuko’s false imprisonment for treason. Foolish peasants. Couldn’t they understand that Agni blessed him in order to better serve his father and his nation?

Zuko almost fell prey to their words, once, when he was a naive child. But now he understood the truth. He was a tool, meant to be used by more capable hands. A sword in his father’s sheath, another arrow in his quiver. Not some kind of saving grace for the masses that didn’t even need to be saved. 

His brief imprisonment humbled him. Zuko was partially responsible for Grandfather’s death, after all. If he hadn’t encouraged the servants’ treasonous ideals, the poisoning never would have happened. Guilt clawed at him some days, threatening to drag him down, but he pushed it back. Grandfather forgave him. He wouldn’t let that blessing go to waste.

To act as his father’s weapon was an honorable position to hold. Zuko couldn’t ask for more. Soon, he would grace the doorstep of Ba Sing Se and complete the mission that his uncle and cousin failed to do three years ago.

It was everything he ever wanted. 

So why did he feel so hollow?

His inability to communicate with the staff was proving inconvenient. Zuko slammed his comb down onto his dresser. He still couldn’t manage a basic topknot on his own, let alone a Phoenix Plume. The flame in his lantern flared, adding to the scorch marks that coated the inside of the glass.

Gentle fingers starting working through his hair, smoothing it out. A slender hand reached over his shoulder to grab the comb. A woman hummed a familiar tune, the gentle song that used to lull him to sleep when he was small. A chill spread across Zuko’s scalp as the spirit touched him.

“Mom?” he asked. His voice shook so badly that the word was barely coherent. Her spirit had yet to make an appearance since her banishment, so he had held on to the hope that she was still alive. Zuko took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to turn around.

It wasn’t Mother holding the comb. It was Asa.

"Oh," he said. "It's _you_."

Asa said nothing. She never did. She reached toward him, likely to start combing his hair again, but he slapped her hand away. 

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Zuko stood. They were the same height now. It was a strange feeling, to grow and change while she remained stagnant. “You aren’t welcome here!” 

Asa’s eyes were sad. It made Zuko uncomfortable. He pushed her, gently at first, then harder when she refused to budge. Asa stumbled back, but quickly righted herself as if it had never happened. 

“What do you want from me?” Zuko spat. “Do you want me to feel guilty? It won’t work. You were a traitor, and you got what you deserved!”

The lanterns in the room exploded under the force of his anger. Asa disappeared, leaving whisps of smoke in her wake. The comb clattered against the floor.

His chest heaved. Zuko sank to his knees. If anything, Agni’s blessing was more like a curse. He pressed his palms against the floor, trying to ground himself. Fragments of scorched glass littered his rug.

“You see her, too?”

Zuko choked. Mai stood in his doorway, arms crossed. “What?” he rasped.

“I heard you shouting,” Mai said. “Azula tries to hide it, but she is haunted by your mother. I guess it makes sense that you would be the same way, especially since you two were so close.”

Was Azula blessed by Agni, too? Unlikely. He would have never heard the end of her bragging. She was seeing things, then. Fear gripped his heart. He needed to talk to his sister. 

Zuko scrambled to his feet and tried to save the last scraps of his dignity. Mai looked him up and down, taking in his disheveled hair and robes. 

“Oh, sweetie,” she said. “That’s not going to work.”

Zuko sputtered, but Mai ignored him. She stepped over the broken glass without comment. Zuko watched, speechless, as she perused his wardrobe. 

“You need to look at least as good as Azula, if not better,” she said. “You are the Crown Prince. And more importantly, you’re my betrothed, and I refuse to marry a slob.”

“I am not a slob,” Zuko argued, indignant.

“Then act like it.” She handed him a folded set of fabric. “Here. Put this on.”

Zuko stared at her, waiting fo her to leave. Heat crept into his cheeks. She sighed and turned to face the wall.

“I didn’t realize you were so shy,” she said dryly. “What do you do when the servants dress you?”

Zuko let his robes fall to the floor. “They don’t.”

“Why not?” Mai asked. “They dress Azula.”

“My contact with the servants is...limited,” Zuko explained, struggling to find the right words. He pulled his new shirt over his head and took comfort in being clothed again. “There was an incident a few years ago. Father worries.”

“Holy shit,” she said. Zuko blinked in surprise. Surely the Royal Academy for Girls frowned upon such language? “Did someone try to assassinate you?”

“Not exactly.” His fingers twitched as he remembered what had happened, what he had done. He adjusted his clothes, trying to busy his hands. “I’m ready. You can look now.”

Mai turned. She whistled. “Every noble and his brother is going to throw his daughter at you,” she said. “Make sure to display that engagement band clearly. It will save you the trouble of turning them down.”

Zuko glanced at the mirror. The outfit was sleek and black, perfectly tailored for his form. Golden threads were woven into the fabric of his sleeveless shirt and loose pants. Light reflected off of it like a dragon’s scales. He twisted, admiring the shimmer that rippled across the cloth.

“You’re good,” he said. “You should become a designer. I didn't even know I had these clothes!”

“If you think that, you don’t know me well at all. I could never do anything so dull,” she said. She wiped the broken glass from his chair with her sleeve. “Now come here. Let me do something about your hair.”

The ceremony went well at first. 

Zuko stood at one end of the arena. In the front rows sat nobles and other esteemed guests. He caught Master Piandao staring at him and quickly turned away. What was the man's problem? Swords were inferior to firebending. Zuko didn't need them anymore!

Some nights, Zuko found himself staring longingly at the blades. But that was no one's business but his own.

The stands behind the nobles were packed with citizens. Families, celebrating the return of the Dragon of the West. Children, bouncing in their seats in excitement, waiting to watch the prince and princess display their imperial firebending. Zuko loved them all. Father sat on his throne, overlooking the masses. Uncle sat to his side. Zuko did a double take when he saw him. Since when was the Dragon of the West so out of shape?

Zuko relished in the attention of the crowd. Fire clawed beneath his skin, desperate to get out. It seemed like it was always boiling just beneath the surface, too hot and too much. He stretched, eager to start the fight to release his pent up energy. 

The lanterns around the arena dimmed at the Firelord’s command. Zuko knelt, pressing his fist against the floor. Someone began to bang a drum in a steady rhythm. A rich melody flowed from the musicians that sat high up in the stands, opposite of the Fire Lord's dias. Zuko rose to his feet, signaled by the song. 

He turned. Azula stood at the other end of the arena. He was suddenly grateful for Mai's help, because his sister looked absolutely regal. Her clothes were a perfect mirror to his own, shimmering gold with black accents. A confident smirk tugged at her lips. Something in her eyes told him that, to her, this was more than a performance. It was a battle, an Agni Kai in everything but legality. 

They circled each other, two dragons vying for the same territory. A Crown Prince, desperate to prove himself. A spare heir, fighting to regain her father’s attention. They were completely different, and yet also two halves of the same whole, completing each other. The siblings moved like one entity. Their practiced steps were in perfect synchronization.

She struck first, just as they had choreographed. Blue-tinged flame burst from her fist. In a few years, her fire would likely be completely azure. Zuko bent backward underneath the blast until his palms touched the ground. Fire billowed around him as he performed a swirling kick. Azula parted the flame like it was nothing. She grabbed his ankle and used his own momentum to throw him to the side. He rolled and landed effortlessly on his feet.

They maintained the dance, fighting not to maim, but to impress. Zuko basked in the cheering of the crowd. A warmth spread in his chest with each startled gasp, each whistle, each encouraging shout of his name.

Azula stepped around him faster than they choreographed. Zuko scrambled to keep up with her. As if noticing the change, the musicians upped the tempo. 

The dance escalated. It morphed into something ugly and violent. Azula seemed determined to best him. Zuko refused to be made a fool of. They continued their routine, quicker and angrier than planned. 

If anything, Father seemed even more pleased. 

Fire struck Zuko’s feet. He scrambled back and lost his balance, slamming against the floor. Azula pounced. She straddled his body and jammed her forearm against his throat. He was pinned. But he was not trapped.

Zuko spit fire at her. Just a little, not enough to burn but enough to make her flinch back. He shoved her off and rose to his feet. They watched each other, wary. Something in her eyes reminded him of Father.

He glanced up at the dias and was surprised to find Uncle leaning forward in his chair, staring at Zuko with disbelief. Zuko looked back to his sister, a flush creeping up his face. Surely he wasn’t doing that badly. But something about his performance had clearly rubbed Uncle the wrong way.

“I need to talk to you,” Zuko blurted, quiet enough to hide beneath the music, but loud enough for Azula to hear him. He dodged her next fire blast and returned an attack of his own.

She sidestepped it like it was nothing. “Is now really the time?”

“You see her, don’t you? You see Mom?"

Azula froze, just for a moment. "Stop trying to distract me," she hissed. 

"I don't see her. And we both know that I really can see spirits," Zuko explained. "She isn't dead. So why can you see her?"

Something in her eyes broke. Zuko pressed his luck. “You need help, Lala,” he said. 

"Shut up!" Azula screamed. Lightning danced on her fingertips. Gasps spread across the crowd like a tidal wave, but Zuko could barely hear them. He wasn’t in the arena anymore. He was ten years old, standing in the Firelord’s chambers with the lingering taste of cherry filling in his mouth. Father stood over him. All he could see was blinding white.

A shadow fell over Zuko’s vision. Uncle stepped between him and the lightning. In an instant, the attack was aimed at the ceiling instead of Zuko’s heart. Debris dusted his hair and shoulders.

Zuko fell to his knees. His chest _burned._

Why was it so hard to breathe?

“Easy, Prince Zuko.” Firm hands gripped Zuko’s shoulders. He looked up into Uncle’s warm gaze. “There is no danger now.”

Zuko wiped his eyes. Later, he would be embarrassed that the entire Caldera saw him crying. Now he was too focused on getting air back into his lungs to care. 

“Coward!” Azula screeched. A strand had fallen loose from her top knot. “We aren’t done!”

She sprinted toward him, a steady blue flame engulfing her fist, but Uncle was faster. He caught her bodily and grabbed her wrist, forcefully extinguishing the flames. 

“You must learn to accept your victory with grace, Princess Azula,” Iroh said as he dragged her back a couple feet, giving Zuko space. 

Father did not show the same courtesy. He towered over Zuko, who had just barely gotten his breathing back under control.

“You embarrass yourself,” Father said, cold. Zuko ducked his head. “Is this any way for a prince to act?”

Zuko shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak. With his luck, his voice would be weak and shaky and would only add to his father’s ire.

Azula ripped free from Uncle’s grasp. She stood tall, her chin lifted in a nearly exaggerated manner. “I challenge you, brother,” she said. “An Agni Kai. A real one this time.”

“What?” Zuko asked. The music had stopped, and if the silence of the crowd was anything to go by, they had all heard her proclamation. It was too late to take it back.

“I challenge you for the position as heir to the throne!”

“No,” Zuko said. He couldn't get over the manic, desperate look in her eye. When had it gotten so bad? How hadn’t Zuko noticed how badly his little sister was hurting? “I won’t fight you, Lala.”

“Scared you’ll lose?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. She gestured broadly at the crowd. “Let it be known! Your Crown Prince is a coward!”

Zuko stared at his father. 

“You heard her, boy. Stand and fight!”

“Look at her! She’s crazy,” Zuko exclaimed. “I won’t fight her like this! This was supposed to be a performance, not a death match!”

“The time for games is over,” Father said. his voice boomed across the arena. “Defend your crown, or lose it! I will not have a coward for an heir.”

Zuko bowed. He pressed his forehead to the floor. “I will not harm another member of this family,” he said. Lu Ten’s dented armor. Grandfather’s tea cup shattering against the ground. Mother’s silhouette, dreamlike and final, as she passed through the doorway. Agni had cut down too many people he loved to put Zuko on the throne. His sister would not be added to the list. “I will not fight you. Please stop this.”

A hand grabbed his hair, forcefully lifting his head off the floor. Zuko cried out as several strands were pulled free from his scalp. He could barely see his father through his tears. 

Zuko had always been told he looked like his mother. He wondered if that was who Father saw when he looked at him. Zuko hoped not. He didn’t want to believe that Father could look at Mother’s likeness with such disgust. 

“How do you expect to take Ba Sing Se if you will not fight?” Father asked. “How do you expect to rule? You will set sail for the Earth Kingdom tomorrow. Perhaps some time in the ground troops will build the character you so clearly lack.”

Zuko’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re sending me to the army?”

“By refusing your sister’s honorable challenge, you show her great disrespect,” Father said. “You will learn to fight, one way or another. From this day on, you are no longer Crown Prince. Do not come back until you are ready to face your sister for her new title.”

Zuko searched his father’s gaze, looking for any hint that he was kidding. He found none. 

“I can’t do that,” he whispered. 

“Even with Agni’s gift and all the firepower you could want, you are still weak at your core,” Father said. He ran his thumb across Zuko’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.”

Father’s hand ignited. Zuko screamed until his voice went hoarse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> needless to say, azula doesn't take not being daddy's favorite very well
> 
> there are about 1 or 2 more prologue chapters and then we'll finally get to those much needed gaang cuddle piles...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: suicidal ideation and self-inflicted ableism due to Zuko’s perfection-driven upbringing.

Iroh thought he had seen the last of the war. 

He had hoped, perhaps naively, that he would never again experience the charbroiled stench of burning flesh. That he would never again sit helplessly by a soldier’s bedside as they fought to recover from grievous wounds. 

That he would never again lose a son. 

Guilt clawed at his heart. He could not call Zuko a son. That would not be fair to the boy. Iroh had not visited since Zuko was a young child. They barely knew each other anymore. But after witnessing the cold precision with which Ozai burned his own son’s face, the triumph in his expression as he branded a mere child, Iroh realized that Zuko had no father. Not truly. And with Ursa gone, someone had to step up and care for him. 

Iroh was not ready. Zuko looked nothing like Lu Ten, but Iroh recognized that confident smirk, that determined shine in his eyes. There was a presence around Zuko that he could not identify but that made his old heart ache with its familiarity. 

He could not do this.

He had no other choice. 

“M’sorry,” Zuko mumbled. The feeble sound pulled Iroh out of his spiraling thoughts. His nephew thrashed in his sleep, his breathing haggard. “I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”

Iroh stroked Zuko’s forehead, careful to avoid the bandages that covered half of the boy’s face. He smoothed back the stray strands of hair that were stuck to Zuko’s forehead, pasted there with sweat. Zuko’s long hair was down, but a portion had been shaved away to provide better access to the burn. It would probably be best to shave all of it, but Zuko had so little agency left in his life that Iroh would not dare allow it to happen without Zuko’s permission. 

“You have done enough, Prince Zuko,” Iroh whispered. “You are enough.”

Zuko cracked his eye open and squinted against the light. “Father?” he asked, his voice muddled by sleep and sickness.

Iroh frowned. Could Zuko not see properly, or was he confused from the fever? Either way, Iroh started to correct him, but then noticed that his nephew’s gaze was not trained on him, but at the door. Ozai stood in the entryway to the infirmary. As he watched his son, his mouth pressed into a thin line as if he had tasted something sour.

“Firelord,” Iroh greeted. He ducked his head in a shallow bow to hide the grimace on his own face. By the time he rose, his face was a calm, expressionless mask. “Let us step into the hall. I will update you on Prince Zuko’s condition in private.”

“No need,” Ozai said. “I came to talk with my son about his shameful performance today.”

Iroh took a deep breath. Yelling caused more problems than it solved, he reminded himself. 

“Perhaps that conversation can wait until he is strong enough,” Iroh said tersely. “He just woke.”

“Strength does not come to those who wait. It comes from within. Zuko may be a coward, but he is still strong. Aren’t you, boy?”

“Yes, Father.” Zuko grunted as he lifted himself up onto his elbows. He started to list to the side, but Iroh caught him with a gentle grip. He eased the boy into a proper sitting position. Tears welled up in Zuko’s eyes, but he blinked furiously to clear them. Iroh pretended not to notice. 

Ozai walked forward until he was standing by the foot of Zuko’s bed, looking down at him. “I am only hard on you because I know you can be better,” he said. His voice was kind, but it did not reach his eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”

Zuko nodded. He kept his eyes trained on his hands, which he wrung nervously in his lap. 

“Tell me what you learned today,” Ozai pressed. “I want to ensure you understand.”

“I showed shameful weakness in front of our people. I _cried_. I failed you, and I embarrassed Azula.” Zuko dropped into a bow. He hissed in pain as his bandaged wound brushed the bed sheets. “I will do better. I will regain my honor. I swear it on Agni’s light!”

“I know you will.” Ozai placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder and squeezed it tight. Iroh barely resisted the urge to slap it away. “That is why I am sending you to the Eastern Sea to join the 41st Division.”

Zuko rose. He stared at Ozai, his eyes still glazed from the fever. Iroh wondered how much of this conversation he was actually processing. For Zuko’s sake, Iroh hoped it wasn’t much.

“The 41st?” Iroh asked. “Isn’t that filled with new recruits?”

“Exactly. Impressionable young soldiers looking for guidance. Who better to encourage them than their prince?” Ozai said. “This is not a punishment, Zuko. This is an opportunity. Use it wisely.”

“I understand. I am not fit to rule, but I can still serve the Fire Nation.” Zuko smiled, and somehow that was more painful to watch than the tears. “I won’t let you down.”

“What an eager young man,” Iroh said. It took all he had not to choke on the words. “And very wise, too. After all, one cannot send others to battle without first going into battle themselves.”

Iroh gave his brother a pointed glance. Ozai had no military experience, and yet decided to condemn his son to that fate on a whim? Disgraceful.

Ozai’s expression darkened. He turned away and pulled something out of his robes before placing it on the bedside table. Iroh recognized the pearl-encrusted dagger he had gifted Zuko all those years ago.

“Never show such weakness again,” Ozai warned.

Something passed between the two, some kind of hidden message that Iroh did not understand, but definitely did not like. Zuko nodded, determined.

“Thank you, Father.”

Ozai left the room without another word. After ensuring that Zuko was able to support his own weight, Iroh followed.

“How can you treat your own son this way?” Iroh asked, once the infirmary door shut behind him. He knew he should keep his mouth shut. One small slip up could ruin all of his plans. However, a Dragon’s fire was not easily put out. Anger flowed beneath his skin, hot and quick in his veins. “He is a fine boy! What more do you want from him?”

“Zuko is more than just fine,” Ozai said. “He is excellent. One of a kind. I worked hard to craft him into the young man he is. But sometimes Ursa’s traitorous influence rears its ugly head, and I have to put him in his place.”

Dread pooled in Iroh’s stomach. “Put him in his place?”

When had it gotten so bad? He should have returned home years ago. He should have noticed sooner. Now all he could do was pray he was not too late to save the boy.

“My son is like a tamed pygmy-wolf. He has all the teeth and claws you could ever want, and he is loyal to a fault. But he needs a firm hand to train him,” Ozai explained. “Time in the army will be good for him. You will see.”

Zuko would not step one foot in the ground troops until his voice no longer cracked. Not if Iroh had anything to say about it.

“I beg of you, push back the date of his departure,” he said. “If he leaves tomorrow, Zuko’s health will surely suffer. The fever has already started to set in, and time on a ship will only make it worse. He could die, Ozai.”

“He will be fine,” Ozai waved his hand, dismissive. “But if not, Azula had proven herself a competent heir.”

“That...” Iroh struggled to find the words. Ozai would trade one child for another as if they were mere playthings. “That is _barbaric_.”

“You have no right to judge me. If your parenting was effective, your own son would still be around for you to coddle,” Ozai said. Iroh stepped back as if he had been slapped. “Zuko leaves tomorrow. End of discussion.”

Iroh watched Ozai depart with open contempt. His hands shook from rage so he tucked them into his sleeves. Lu Ten had died three years ago, but the wound was still fresh. He suspected that his grief would be just as strong every day of his life as it had been the day it happened. To hear Ozai’s blatant disregard for his own children, who still had a chance to grow and flourish, was unfathomable. 

Iroh synchronized his breathing with the lanterns that adorned the walls. They pulsed violently at first, but slowed as he calmed his own frantic heart. He went back into the infirmary, opening the door as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing his nephew in case he had fallen back asleep. 

However, Zuko was still sitting upright. He held the Earth Kingdom dagger in his delicate hands as he idly traced the inscription. _Never give up without a fight,_ if Iroh remembered correctly. He allowed himself a small moment of victory. Perhaps his nephew would recover through sheer stubbornness and willpower. 

Zuko tilted his head, thinking. The movement revealed his unwrapped wound, red and black and _raw_. A lesser man would have lost his stomach just looking at it, but Iroh had seen his fair share of injuries. The bandages laid discarded in the boy’s lap.

Foolish boy! Was he trying to get an infection? Iroh started forward, ready to scold him, but then Zuko’s grip tightened around the handle. He brought the dagger toward himself as if to drive the blade into his own chest. 

Iroh caught Zuko’s wrist. He wrestled the knife out of his grasp and let the offending object fall to the floor.

“Zuko!” he shouted. Iroh cupped his hands around Zuko’s face, careful to avoid the burn. Zuko squirmed, but Iroh forced his nephew to look him in the eye. “What were trying to do?”

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” Zuko said, as if it were obvious. “I can’t fight like this. I was trying to fix it. Just let me fix it!”

Zuko reached toward the knife, and Iroh kicked it even further away. His eyes burned. He felt older than he had in a very long time. 

“What happened to you was terrible,” Iroh said. “No child should have to suffer like this. But you must not give up, nephew. The road ahead of you is long and filled with many hardships but also many joys. Please stick around to experience it all.”

Zuko stared at him, fever bright and confused. After a moment, his uninjured eye widened. The other eye barely responded, remaining no more than a half-closed slit.

“No!” Zuko said, frantic. “No, you misunderstand.”

“I understand more than I could ever want to.”

Iroh pulled the boy tight against his chest and sobbed, unable to contain it any longer. Zuko remained stiff for a moment before his small arms awkwardly returned the gesture. His nephew’s fingers dug painfully into his back, but Iroh did not mind. 

They remained like that for a minute or two before Zuko broke the silence. “I can’t see,” he whispered, as if confessing a dark sin. “I can’t see out of that eye.”

Iroh sat back. He scrutinized his nephew’s face. Zuko must have mistaken Iroh’s concern for something else, because he flinched back. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” he hissed. “I’m not weak. I’m not.”

It would take years to undo the damage Ozai had done to his son’s psyche, if not a lifetime. Iroh resolved to pick his battles. He pat Zuko’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

“Of course not, nephew.”

“Don’t patronize me!”

A flame flickered out from between Zuko’s teeth. The temperature in the room increased as the lanterns flared. The small flames had still been in Iroh’s control from his breathing exercise earlier, but Zuko had somehow overpowered him. Iroh forced his face to stay calm in the presence of such an unnatural display of firepower. There was an intensity to Zuko’s flames that he had never seen before in a human bender. If anything, it more closely resembled a dragon’s fire, but with far less control. A dangerous combination.

Iroh hummed. “So, I did not imagine that move during your performance against Azula. Where did you learn to breathe fire?”

Zuko stilled. He shrugged, an obvious attempt to seem nonchalant. “I just picked it up along the way,” he said.

“You just picked up an advanced firebending form along the way?”

“...Yes?”

Iroh sighed. This conversation was going nowhere. “I am impressed with how much you have ‘picked up.’ But you have much to learn before you master the technique. Perhaps I will train you on the ship.”

Zuko stared at him, unimpressed. “You make it sound like you’ll be joining me.”

“I thought we could have some much needed uncle-nephew bonding time before your military debut!” Iroh said cheerily. If Ozai would not change his mind about his son’s departure, then Iroh would just have to go with him. And if somehow the Dragon of the West ended up in the 41st Division, then so be it. He would deal with the consequences once Zuko was home safe and sound. “There is nothing like a few weeks together at sea to make up for lost time.”

“No,” Zuko said. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Iroh held up his hands, placating. “I never said you did. But I do need you. After all, who else am I going to play Pai Sho with?”

He laughed, trying to joke, but Zuko’s scowl only deepened. 

“Look. I’m not going to be your replacement son or whatever it is you’re looking for, so stop pretending you like me,” Zuko said. “I don’t need pity from a weak old man like you!”

The lanterns pulsed again. Zuko swayed. Iroh gently lowered him back down onto the bed. 

“A boy needs his rest,” Iroh said.

“M’ not a kid,” Zuko mumbled. His eyes fluttered closed.

“A young man, then,” Iroh conceded, but his nephew was already asleep. He fixed Zuko’s blankets, pushing down his growing guilt. What right did Iroh have, to suddenly return to Zuko’s life and start acting like a father?

He made a mental note to call for a healer to redress Zuko’s wound as soon as possible. But for now, Iroh sat at his bedside and started to sing. As the song went on, the words morphed into something resembling a prayer to Agni or anyone else who would listen.

“Brave soldier boy,” he pleaded. “Come marching home.”

Zuko was transferred to a ship at the break of dawn. He did not sir even once, much to Iroh’s concern. A single healer accompanied them, but due to the young lad’s awkwardness and nerves, Iroh could only assume he was a novice. It was only a matter of time before Zuko’s health took a turn for the worse. 

The first week on the ship was touch and go. Infection wormed its way deep into Zuko’s wound. Iroh spent much of it in prayer as the healer scrambled to treat the infection with limited skills and supplies. In the rare moments that he was conscious, Zuko was delirious and pained. He mumbled to himself about turtleducks and spirits and other confused nonsense. At one point, he even referred to Iroh as ‘cousin.’

Blessedly, the fever broke by the start of the second week. Zuko was finally lucid and mobile, which was a problem all on its own. On more than one occasion, Iroh found him on the deck in the middle of the night, practicing firebending forms under the light of the moon. Wrangling the boy back into bed usually ended up with a shouting match and a headache for all involved. 

Finally, Iroh grew tired of the antics. “Please, spare my poor, aging heart,” he begged. “Stop sneaking off so much!”

“I wouldn’t have to sneak off if you would just let me train!” Zuko shouted.

“Fine,” Iroh said. “You can train.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Iroh assured him. “But you will train only under my supervision. You will practice only the forms I direct you to, and when I say you have done enough, I expect you to stop without throwing a fit. Can we agree to that?”

Zuko nodded. “That sounds fair.”

Training with Zuko was...interesting.

The boy did not quit. If Iroh did not tell him to stop, Zuko would keep going until he collapsed from exhaustion. He would sit on the deck, panting, his eyes squeezed closed as if waiting for a blow.

Iroh did not want to know the source of such behavior.

He restricted him to the basics, but somehow Zuko managed to produce flames that were much too hot and much too violent for a young boy. Iroh noticed soot stains on Zuko’s fingers and forced him to stop for the day. He grabbed his nephew’s hand. Calluses and scars had long since formed on his fingertips, as if they had been burned over and over again by the force of his own flame. Iroh had never seen such a thing. It scared him.

“Sit, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said. 

His nephew looked at him skeptically but did as he asked. Iroh joined him, seating himself cross-legged on the floor of the deck. He summoned a small flame in his hand and beckoned Zuko to do the same. The fire Zuko summoned was the same size as Iroh’s, but it burned so hot that he instinctively leaned back. 

“Gentle, now,” he instructed. “That is much too warm. Tone it down.”

Zuko scoffed. “You want me to make a weaker flame?”

“Yes.” Iroh raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course it’s not a problem! I can do it.” Zuko concentrated so hard it looked like it hurt. The flame remained unchanged. His nephew’s face reddened in shame.

“Hmm,” Iroh nodded. “I suspected as such.”

“What?” Zuko clenched his fist, extinguishing the flame. “What’s wrong with me?”

Iroh had no clue. However, admitting that would only make Zuko feel worse. “Your chi is all jumbled up inside,” he lied. Well, it was probably true. “I know just the thing you are missing.”

Zuko waved his hand impatiently. “Well?”

“Music!”

“Music,” Zuko deadpanned. 

Iroh ignored him. “You are just in luck! The crew and I are having a music night tonight. You should join us,” he said. At Zuko’s eye roll, he added, “Or, you could just sit in your room in the dark, burning up from your own rage. It’s up to you.”

Zuko frowned. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. Iroh considered it a success. He stood and rustled his nephew’s hair as he walked by. Zuko had tried in vain to pull it back into a topknot, but the hair by the burn was much too short. Stray wisps stuck out in every direction. Much of it was charred and would never grow in correctly without intervention. 

“Have you decided what to do about your hair?” Iroh asked. He kept his tone as casual as possible. The last thing he wanted was for Zuko to think he was judging him.

“I don’t know,” Zuko said. He turned away, embarrassed. 

“That’s okay. It is your choice, nephew.” 

“My choice?” Zuko reached back to touch his messy topknot. He acted like the idea of having agency over his own body was foreign to him. Iroh walked away before Zuko could misinterpret his sudden rage.

_Curse you, Ozai. Curse you for what you’ve done to this boy._

“You know, when you agreed to join us for music night I hoped you would be a bit more involved.”

Zuko slouched. He faced the sea, enjoying the crisp breeze on the uncovered half of his face. His leg dangled over the churning water. He was balanced precariously on the ledge. Uncle’s anxiety radiated off of him like a physical force. 

“I’m not going to jump if that’s what you’re worried about,” Zuko said. It was a low blow, and he knew it. But Uncle had been insufferable ever since he found him with the dagger. Zuko suspected he had baby-proofed the entire ship in an attempt to keep Zuko from harming himself. As a result he had been forced to keep the injury much longer than he intended to.

For Zuko, the decision had been simple. Obvious, even. He wasn’t useful to his father if he couldn’t see from the burn and couldn’t walk from the fever. Agni’s blessing cured all of his wounds, save for the mark it left behind. His chest was already littered with scars. What was one more?

It was what Father wanted. Why else would he have left the knife? Uncle didn’t understand, but that wasn’t the old man’s fault. Zuko never did send that letter about Lu Ten. After his brief imprisonment, it had completely slipped his mind. He should tell him. But if Father hadn’t already informed Uncle of Zuko’s unique abilities, then something told Zuko he should keep his mouth shut. 

The last thing he wanted was to make Father angrier. 

“Come join us, nephew. It isn’t healthy for you to brood over here by yourself.”

“I don’t have time for such frivolous things,” Zuko spat. “I only agreed because you said it would help with my control.”

An unholy screech came from one of the crew member’s poor attempts at playing an instrument. Zuko and Uncle flinched in unison. 

“Someone ought to take the tsungi horn away from the cook before he leaves us all deaf,” Uncle said. There was a scheming note in his voice that Zuko was learning to despise. “If only there was a young man on this ship that was musically trained—“

A particularly loud note interrupted the sentence. Zuko hung his head, defeated. “Fine. I’ll play the damn tsungi horn,” he said. “Will that make you happy?”

Iroh beamed. “My nephew is so generous. To sacrifice his pride to save an old man’s ears...”

“Shut up and get me that horn before I change my mind.”

Uncle left to fetch the instrument, chuckling. Zuko crossed his arms and scowled. He would never admit it, but he was anxious to play the tsungi horn. Father considered music a distraction from training, so he hadn’t so much as touched an instrument since he was a child. The last time he played was three years ago, just before Mother...

He shook his head. Don’t think about her. Not now. Not ever again. Traitors didn’t deserve Zuko’s time or energy.

His heart twinged. He hated how much he missed her.

Footsteps echoed across the deck. Zuko sighed and reached out to accept the tsungi horn and get this over with. Instead, a cold hand grabbed his chin and tilted his face into the light. Zuko hissed and pulled away. 

Lu Ten stood over him, seething with quiet rage. “ _What. Happened_.”

Zuko picked at the hem of his robe, avoiding his cousin’s piercing gaze.

Lu Ten pressed on, undeterred. “Did he do this to you?”

“It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Lu Ten promised. He paced the deck, clenching and unclenching his fists in anger. “As soon as I figure out how to kill people in this form, that man is a goner.”

“I won’t sit here and listen to this treason,” Zuko snapped. “I thought you had given up on me anyway.”

“You were being an asshole,” Lu Ten pointed out. “But I would never, ever give up on you. I will stay here as long as I am needed, and then for even longer afterwards. Do you understand that?”

Zuko opened his mouth, ready to insist that he didn’t need his cousin. He was a teenager now. That was basically an adult. A grown adult soldier who definitely didn’t need a babysitter, no matter how much Lu Ten and Uncle seemed to disagree. But then he saw Uncle approach, and he held his tongue. If Uncle saw him talking to himself, the hovering would only get worse.

Uncle stopped abruptly. He stared at Lu Ten, his face slack with shock and shameless grief. Wait, could he see spirits, too?

Lu Ten stood, hesitant. He held out his hand as if trying not to frighten a startled rabbit-deer. “Hi, Dad.”

The tsungi horn hit the deck with a resounding clatter. Zuko started forward, but somehow, Uncle was faster. He disappeared below deck before Zuko could fully process the situation. 

Lu Ten turned to him with a grim expression. “I’m going after him,” he said.

“I thought you had to stay close to me when you weren’t in the spirit world?”

“That’s what I thought, too. Usually I feel like there’s a tether binding me to you, keeping me from straying too far.” As he spoke, Lu Ten backed toward the direction his father had run, as if being pulled away by an unseen force. Zuko had to keep walking to remain within in earshot. “Now, I feel like I’m tethered to Dad. He needs me, now.”

_I still need you_ , his traitorous mind supplied, but he would never display such weakness out loud. 

“Take care of him,” Zuko said instead. Uncle may be fat and lazy and meddlesome, but he didn’t deserve to carry around all that guilt. 

“I will,” Lu Ten promised. “Take care of yourself, cousin.”

Zuko stopped walking and watched Lu Ten phase through the doors to the cabin. It should only be a quick conversation, not a permanent goodbye. So why did it feel so final?

The next morning arrived with little fanfare. Zuko secretly hoped that Uncle would be waiting for him above deck, sitting at the Pai Sho board with a steaming cup of tea. However, he was nowhere to be found, and every crew member he questioned claimed that they hadn’t seen him at all since he ran out of music night. 

A sudden commotion drew his attention. The crew was gathered by the railing, staring off into the distance. Zuko joined them, searching the water but seeing nothing.

“There’s something on the horizon!” a crewman yelled. “I think it might be the fleet!”

“You think?” Zuko snatched the spyglass from the man and began to climb the main mast. After that day in the courtyard, Zuko had vowed to get better at climbing, desperate to have one less thing for Azula to mock him about. He had started by climbing the tree over and over again, learning which branches could hold his weight and which were more dangerous. Then, he graduated to climbing the palace walls, That particular venture had nearly given a servant a heart attack on more than one occasion. However, due to Father’s decree, they were unable to scold him.

Sometimes, his ban on communication with the servants had its benefits. 

Zuko’s fingers dug into the rough wood of the mast, instinctively finding the best handholds. Once he reached the top, he secured his footing and scanned the horizon with his spyglass. A fleet of ships floated in the water, stretching for as far as the eye could see. Zuko stopped counting after he reached two dozen. Each ship was far larger and grander than the one he was currently on.

“It’s them!” he shouted. Anxiety twisted in his gut, but he shoved it down. Father had been generous enough to give him a chance to prove himself, and by Agni, would he take it.

He half expected Uncle to shout at him for his dangerous antics, but the man was still in his cabin. Zuko watched the approaching ships a moment before descending. He returned the spyglass to the crewman and made his way below deck. When he reached Uncle’s door, he rapped his knuckles gently against the smooth metal.

“Uncle?” Zuko could hear muffled voices through the door, but couldn’t identify what they were saying. “We’ve met up with the fleet. I have to go now.”

There was no answer. Zuko knocked again, a little more desperate. “Uncle?” he repeated.

He stopped himself before he knocked a third time. What, was he expecting Uncle to hug him and make it all better? Heat creeped up his face and neck as he realized how needy he was being. What would Father say?

Zuko walked above deck with the ghost of a goodbye still hanging on his lips.

Captain Sano was an intimidating man, with a broad face and even broader shoulders. He looked Zuko up and down. “You’re the prince?”

“Yes.” Zuko grit his teeth and tried not to be too insulted. He knew he must be quite the sight, young and bandaged with half-shaven hair. 

The fleet was to continue its journey to the Earth Kingdom’s eastern coast, while the small vessel Zuko had been on was to return to the Fire Nation. Zuko couldn’t help but look back at the retreating ship, hoping to get one final glance at Uncle before it disappeared over the horizon.

He wasn’t there. 

“When they said they were sending an imperial firebender, I was expecting someone more experienced,” the Captain continued. “Not a twelve year old.”

“I’m thirteen!” Zuko argued. “And a half.”

There was a choking sound from the woman who stood behind the captain. She was about the same age as his mother, but had the energy of someone much younger. “He still measures his age in fractions,” she said. “Agni help us all.”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Zuko insisted. “I’m the strongest bender here, and I can prove it. I’ll fight you all right now!”

“You know what, punk?” the woman said. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Captain Sano cleared his throat. They both looked to him, pleading. With Uncle breathing down his neck, Zuko hadn’t done any real firebending in weeks. He needed this. The fire that flowed in veins was starting to burn from lack of use. 

The captain sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Just don’t sink my ship.”

Five minutes later, Zuko stood on the deck, barely out of breath. A dozen soldiers were sprawled on the ground by his feet.

Zuko addressed the crowd. “Anyone else?”

The soldiers shuffled awkwardly. No one else took him up on the offer. Zuko shrugged and offered his hand to the woman from earlier, the first one to challenge him. She let him help her to her feet. 

“Not bad, kid.”

“I have a name, you know,” he said. “I am Prince Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa, firstborn and heir to the—“

The familiar spiel caught in his throat. He wasn’t the heir anymore. Zuko tried to convince himself that he was okay with that. The Firelord didn’t make mistakes. If Father thought that Azula was a more suitable heir, then it must be true.

The woman’s eyes softened, and Zuko bristled. So, she knew about the conditions of his enlistment. He scanned the crowd, wondering if they all knew what a coward he was.

“I don’t have nearly as many fancy titles,” the woman said. “But my name is Kaori. I am the sergeant in charge of your troop, and let me just say, I am honored to have you, Your Highness. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a spar like that. If anyone doubts you, you have my permission to kick their ass.”

Zuko grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, as if he were another commoner and not royalty. Zuko should probably be offended, but if was honest with himself, he found it comforting. He had never been treated this way before. “I’m sure some of the little pests are just dying to meet you.”

Sergeant Kaori nodded toward a group of soldiers standing to one side of the gathered crowd. A boy that couldn’t have been more than sixteen was practically bouncing up and down. He talked animatedly with the teenage girl next to him. 

“And then he breathed _fire_ from his _mouth_ ,” the boy was saying. 

The girl rolled her eyes. “I know. I was literally standing right beside you when it happened.”

“I bet he learned that from the Dragon of the West! Ooh, do you think he would teach me if I asked? Fire-breathing would make me so popular at parties.”

“Somehow I doubt that you’ve ever been invited to a party,” the girl said. Zuko noticed that she wore her hair completely down, without a topknot of any kind. “Look alive. He’s coming this way.”

“Oh, Agni. I can’t talk to the prince! What if I embarrass myself?”

Sergeant Kaori smiled. “I think that ship has sailed, hon,” she said.

The boy jerked his head up. He paled when he saw Zuko and the sergeant standing in front of him, definitely within earshot of the conversation. 

“This is Prince Zuko,” the sergeant told them. “The Firelord has generously offered his son’s assistance to our cause as we march to support General Bujing’s troops against those feral earthbenders outside Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko perked up. “We’re going to Ba Sing Se?”

“We’ll be near it, but we aren’t attacking the city itself. Did they not brief you on the mission beforehand?”

Zuko shook his head. His mind was spinning. It all made sense now. Father had said this was a chance for him to prove himself. First step, assist General Bujing’s division. Next step, take Ba Sing Se and regain his honor.

“What, they just sent you here without an explanation?” a young man piped up from the crowd. “Who does that to a kid?”

“The Firelord,” Zuko said, his voice steel. Silence spread across the deck. “He has his reasons, and I trust in his judgement. Do you?”

The young man nodded, frantic. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Sergeant Kaori coughed, regaining control over the conversation. She introduced him to the entire troop. Zuko, who had always been bad with names, only managed to hang on to three. Ren, the young fan boy. Emiko, the girl without a topknot. And Shou, the man who had gotten dangerously close to treason. Most of the troop was less than twenty, but there were several exceptions, like Shou and the sergeant. Zuko had known they were new recruits, but his mind hadn’t made the connection that they would all be so young. Of course, he was still the youngest one there, but he had trained for this. He was ready!

Based off their measly performance in the spar, Zuko doubted that was true for the others.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Zuko said, and he meant it. He bowed to them, and they returned the gesture. Maybe this whole army thing wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’m dying,” Ren said, laying face down on the packed earth. “This is the end for me. Save yourselves.”

“Suck it up,” Emiko snarled. “How do you expect to spread the glory of the Fire Nation if you can’t manage a few basic katas?”

Zuko silently agreed with her, but noticed with amusement that she was out of breath herself. If he were still training with Father, this would only be a warm up. He tossed Ren his water skin without breaking formation as he continued through the forms.

In the past month, they had reached shore and slowly marched their way across Earth Kingdom land on their way to Ba Sing Se. Ren and Emiko had taken to him like turtleducks to water, or perhaps it was Zuko who had grown so attached to them. Was this what it was like to have friends?

Eventually, the sergeant gave them permission to stop training and explore the nearby town in shifts. It was previously an Earth Kingdom mining village, but it now had a stable Fire Nation military occupation. The 41st Division was just passing through.

“I would kill for some fire flakes right now,” Ren said. “Do you think we could find a vendor here?”

“I doubt it.” Emiko sighed. “They had some back in Gaipan, but this isn’t a colony. Maybe we can shake down one of the soldiers that is stationed here permanently. They might have a secret stash.”

“You’re from the colonies?” Zuko asked. 

“I was, before...” she trailed off, a haunted look in her eyes. “Before I left. I served on the Home Guard for a year before they moved me here.”

“Why did they transfer you?”

“Apparently I have ‘aggression issues.’ Can you believe that?”

Both boys remained silent. It was the only safe option. Emiko shoved Ren, pretending to be annoyed. If they hadn’t all gotten so distracted, it never would have happened.

Something struck Zuko on the side of his head, on his blind side. He stumbled, clutching the shallow wound. 

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed. Zuko whirled around, searching for the danger. A young girl, surely no more than ten or eleven, stood on the side of the road. Her hands and feet were smudged with dirt. Small, sharp stones floated in the air, spinning around her body in a lazy circle. 

“Leave us alone!” she shouted. “Get out of our town!”

Another pebble sailed toward them, but this time Ren intercepted it with a block from his arm guard. More citizens gathered behind the girl.

“You dare attack the prince?” Ren snarled. He stepped in front of Zuko protectively. Zuko glared at his back and moved to stand by Ren’s side. He did not need protecting.

The earthbender spat on the ground. It left a notable stain on the otherwise dry earth. “Doesn’t look like much of a prince to me,” she said. 

A man stepped in front of the girl. “My daughter is just a child,” he pleaded. “Please. She doesn’t understand.”

“I understand just fine—“

The man clasped a hand over her mouth, silencing her. “She’ll behave, Your Highness. I give you my word.”

Emiko stepped forward. Fire danced on her fingertips. “Your word means nothing to us.” She glanced down at the girl’s dirty feet with disdain. “In the Fire Nation, we respect honor. The Earth Kingdom has no honor!”

She was much angrier than the situation called for. Something about it must have struck a chord with her. Zuko made a mental note to ask her about it later.

“What should we do, Prince Zuko?” Ren asked.

With the sergeant not present, they were submitting to his authority. Everyone was staring at him, townsfolk and soldiers alike. He caught a glimpse of golden light out of the corner of his vision. Asa stood with the crowd of civilians. She shook her head, her eyes pleading.

Zuko’s heart threatened to burst from his chest. This was his chance to prove himself. He couldn’t show weakness here.He had to make the right decision.

He had to be strong.

“Earthbending is illegal in this town,” he said, straightening his spine. “She clearly seems to understand that, but doesn’t care. We’ll make her care.”

Emiko and Ren gave him matching sharp-toothed grins. Zuko marched forward. The girl’s father shouted and stomped his foot. A large chunk of the roadside was unearthed and thrown in their direction. Zuko hit the ground, barely avoiding the bone-crushing stone. He swiped out with his leg and sent an arc of fire at the townsfolk, driving the others back and away from the father and daughter. The flames surrounded the pair, trapping them on every side but one.

Emiko rushed past him. Her light footwork helped her navigate the ever-changing terrain as the father kept pulling up chunks of rock to throw at her. 

Zuko rolled to his feet. He started to press the attack but felt an eerie prickle on the back of his neck. He turned and met Asa’s gaze as she watched him from across the street. Her eyes were sharp and focused and so, so disappointed. Zuko found that he couldn’t look away. 

A high-pitched ringing filled his ears. The sound grew sharper and clearer until it eventually morphed into screams. Hundreds of thousands of pained voices, clambering to be heard. He clutched at the sides of his head, trying to block it out with little success. 

Asa crossed the street, stepping through the flames like they weren’t even there. She glided as if gravity submitted to her will. The screaming grew louder at her approach. Zuko wanted to back up but his feet were frozen in place. She reached up and stroked his bandaged eye with an almost motherly expression. 

Zuko remembered too late that not every spirit tale was a pleasant one.

When her cold hand made contact with his skin, Zuko’s world went dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iroh, about to throw Ozai in the garbage where he belongs: this does not spark joy.
> 
> Sorry this is late! Writing has been hard for me this week for some reason. Thank you all for your patience and your sweet comments!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a dark one, ya’ll. Graphic depictions of violence, injury, and death.
> 
> Also, quick reminder since its been a while since the last update: in this AU, Zuko received his scar when he refused Azula’s challenge for an Agni Kai. He never attended the war meeting in which the fate of the 41st Division was decided. This chapter might get confusing if you don’t remember that lol

Iroh was certain of very little these days. 

But as he watched his son smile and wave his hands as he recounted a story, looking every bit as lively as he did three years ago, there was one thing Iroh understood with perfect clarity.

He did not deserve this. 

Iroh's hands were stained with blood. He had killed countless innocent people in the pursuit of pride. His own foolishness sent Lu Ten to an early grave. And yet, the spirits had blessed him. They had allowed him to reunite with his beloved son. Iroh resolved to not waste a moment of this gift. 

He had locked himself in his cabin after music night, but his son's spirit had followed. Lu Ten had waited patiently and offered reassurances until Iroh was calm enough to talk. He wasn't sure how long the pair had sat on the floor, crying and chatting as they desperately tried to catch up on lost time. At some point, long after Iroh felt the sun rise, their conversation migrated to the Pai Sho table.

“I want my Rhododendron tile moved here.” Lu Ten tapped a space on the board.

“Of course,” Iroh said. He was careful to keep the grin from his face as he moved his son’s piece to a slightly different space than the one he requested. 

“ _Dad_.” Lu Ten grabbed for the piece, but his hand passed through like smoke. That would take some getting used to, Iroh admitted. Lu Ten huffed, looking like the petulant child he hadn’t been since years before the Siege. “You are such a cheat! I thought you were supposed to be good at this game.”

“I am simply making use of every advantage available to me. A good strategist never—“

“Never wastes an opportunity. Yes, you’ve told me.”

Iroh hummed, pleased. “I am glad to see that you actually listened to the ramblings of your old man.”

“My old man may be a dirty, rotten cheater,” Lu Ten said. “But I admit, he’s picked up a thing or two in his long, long, _long_ life.”

Iroh made an affronted noise. “I am not that old!”

“Uh huh. Your gray hairs tell a different story.”

Iroh started to respond to the jest, but he was interrupted by a muffled noise.“Did you hear something?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Iroh shrugged and returned to the game. He barely had time to place his own tile before he heard a knock at his door, louder and more distinct. 

“Excuse me, son.” His knees creaked as he stood. Perhaps Lu Ten’s comments about his age were not that far off. “Don't rearrange the board while I’m gone.”

“Ha ha.”

When Iroh opened the door, he was met with an empty hallway. Lu Ten gave him a questioning look as he sat back down at the table.

“No one there?" he asked. "Weird.”

“It was probably Zuko,” Iroh guessed. “He’s a flighty one. I'm sure he will come back when he’s ready.”

Lu Ten leaned back on his hands. He let out a long sigh. "I worry about that kid," he admitted. "Each time I talk with him, it seems like he has lost another part of himself. Uncle Ozai is killing everything that was good in him."

Guilt crept back into Iroh's heart, but he shoved it down. "You talk with Zuko?" he focused on instead. "I didn't realize he was spiritually-inclined."

Lu Ten laughed, sharp and bitter. “You could say that. He’s practically a walking spirit tale.”

“In what way?”

“Well, the servants used to spread rumors that he was blessed by Agni and destined to inherit the throne. Ozai did not like that at _all_.”

“Do you believe this rumor to be true?”

“I do. Zuko can both see and touch spirits. As a child, he was always such a weak bender. But suddenly, his firebending became ridiculously powerful, if unrefined. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Iroh nodded. From what little training they had done together, he couldn't help but notice the raw, broiling power that was housed deep within his nephew's soul. Zuko clearly didn't have a healthy way to access his own abilities.

"The strangest part, though," Lu Ten continued, "is that Zuko can't die."

Iroh sat up sharply. "Explain."

"Some of it I've only heard secondhand, but I have witnessed it a few times myself. He apparently was born cold, but came back to life without interference from the healers. He busted his skull when he fell from the courtyard tree, but stood up moments later without so much as a scratch. He got an infection a few years ago, and I...”

Lu Ten swallowed. “I held him as his heart stopped, Dad. He was on his feet and running not ten minutes later. And I don’t even want to know how many times Ozai has pushed him too far during training, or how many times Azula ‘experimented’ on him. If Agni hadn’t blessed him, we would have lost Zuko a long time ago.”

"We are here for him now," Iroh said. "I won't let him be harmed in such a way again."

"But I've been here the whole time!" Lu Ten's breath hitched. "I've been watching over him for years and couldn't do a damn thing to stop it! I'm useless like this!"

Iroh reached for him, intending to pull him into an embrace, but his hands passed through as if his son wasn't even there. He settled for looking Lu Ten in the eyes and saying, "Do not blame yourself for what is outside of your control. You were there for him in all the ways you could be. Agni, you were the _only_ one there for that boy. Thank you."

A shadow flickered across Lu Ten's eyes, but he didn't argue the issue any further. "We should go check on him."

"Yes, I believe that would be wise."

"What do you mean Zuko isn't on the ship?"

"I mean, uh, that we already rendezvoused with the 41st Division this morning, sir. Prince Zuko left with them. We've already started sailing back to the Fire Nation."

Iroh seethed. "And no one thought to inform me of this?" he demanded. 

"The Prince went below deck to speak with you," another crewman spoke up. "We assumed you were aware of the recent developments."

"Turn this ship around,” Iroh commanded.

"But sir, we have orders from the Firelord--"

Iroh grabbed the man's armor, pulling him down to look him in the eye. He willed heat to radiate from his palms, a warning. "The Firelord isn't here right now," he said. "But I am, and I can assure you that if you don't reverse our course, you won't live long enough to complete the Firelord's orders."

"Of course, General."

As the men scrambled to obey his command, Iroh joined Lu Ten by the railing. He stared out over the horizon, anxious. He had accompanied Zuko on this journey to ensure his nephew didn't go to battle alone, and yet he still managed to let the boy slip through his fingers.

"Spirits, you can be scary," Lu Ten said. "I suppose that's one way to get the job done."

Iroh found no joy in using threats or fear to get his way. But sometimes, it was the most efficient course of action. Their ship was small and run-down, good for nothing other than hauling cargo. They would need to use every second wisely if they wanted to catch up with the more advanced fleet.

"Let's go get our boy."

* * *

In the dark, Zuko saw things.

He saw a bald child, adorned in yellow robes, sprinting across a stone courtyard. A younger child's hand was held tight in his grip. Fire trailed at their heels as Fire Nation soldiers pursued. The youngest tripped, and the eldest lifted the boy into his arms. He paused when he saw what the child had tripped on. A baby sky bison, so small it couldn't have weighed more than Zuko himself, was collapsed on the ground. The boy let out a choked sob, and his hesitation gave the Fire Nation soldiers time to surround him. 

Zuko blinked, and the vision changed.

He saw a young girl in a heavy, blue anorak kneeling on the icy floor of an igloo. Tears streamed down her face as she wept. A woman was laying on the ground in front of her, impossibly still. Burns blistered the skin on the woman's chest and throat. The girl reached up with trembling hands and removed the woman's necklace. The blue ribbon was scorched and tattered, but the pendant was intact. The girl's fingers closed around the necklace, and when Zuko next saw her eyes, he saw that her grief had been replaced with fury. 

Zuko stepped back under the force of her anger. Her gaze promised death, _his_ death. The expression was unnatural on one so young. He was almost relieved when the darkness swallowed the vision and showed him something else.

He saw two figures in ill-fitting Fire Nation armor standing at the front of a battalion. Their hands were restrained behind their backs. The taller one offered the shorter one a reassuring smile. Zuko recognized them as the father and daughter earthbenders from the mining town. The man distracted the girl, keeping her eyes on him as large stones rained down from the sky, crushing them. 

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation. When he opened them again, he saw his own father surrounded by his trusted generals.

"The Earth Kingdom defenses are concentrated here," General Bujing said, as he pointed at a location on the map. "A dangerous battalion of their strongest earth benders and fiercest warriors! I am recommending the 41st Division."

"But the 41st is entirely new recruits,” someone interrupted. “How do you expect them to defeat a powerful Earth Kingdom battalion?"

"I don't," General Bujing said. He smiled like it was a joke. "They'll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear. What better to use as bait than fresh meat?"

Zuko's blood boiled. He was disappointed when the vision ended. He wanted to see Father's reaction, to see how he punished Bujing for his blatant disregard for human life. 

"Why are you showing me this?" Zuko asked the dark.

Asa, the servant girl, was suddenly kneeling at his feet. "They say you will bring balance to the world," she said. "And free us from this never-ending cycle of suffering."

Zuko looked away. He didn’t want to see Asa as she used to be, young and vibrant and alive. He didn’t want to see what he took from her. 

“What do you want from me?” he screamed. He turned to face what looked like prison bars. A man was curled against a wall inside the cell, his knees pulled tight to his chest. It took Zuko entirely too long to recognize the pitiful figure as his father. 

He spun around, and saw Azula, chained to a grate. She wailed and raged with a manic, desperate glint in her eyes. Blue fire streamed from her mouth. Zuko's heart stuttered in his chest. He ran forward and fell to his knees in front of his sister, reaching out to grab her shoulders. When he touched her, the vision disappeared in smoke.

He looked up. A young man sat on his father's throne. The crown of the Firelord had been carefully placed in his hair, glistening in the firelight. Half of his face was scarred, as if a handprint had been seared onto his otherwise porcelain skin. Zuko gasped. His fingers traced the bandages on his own face.

“No,” he said. “I won’t be your puppet. I am not a traitor!”

He saw his mother disappear through a doorway. Asa stayed behind, framed in the light that streamed in from the hall. "You will understand one day, my prince," she said. "I am not the bad guy here."

“Enough of these visions. Stop playing games with me, spirit!” Zuko snarled. “Who are you?”

Zuko felt a gentle warmth radiate from his chest and forehead. He looked down to see that his scars were glowing.

“Agni,” Zuko breathed. “I’ve tried to contact you for years. I prayed to you. Why are you talking to me now?”

He saw himself, sitting cross-legged on the floor of a cell. Lu Ten threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. “Someone has to look after you,” the spirit said. 

Something inside Zuko snapped. “I don’t want you to look after me!” he shouted. “Ever since I fell from that tree, you have done nothing but make me and my family miserable!“

The darkness around him started to swirl, about the show him another vision, but Zuko dismissed it with a swipe of his hand.

“No! I’m done listening to you!” he said. “I get it. The world is shit. This war is awful. That’s why I’m going to help my father take over Ba Sing Se and end this war once and for all!”

Silence followed in the wake of his proclamation. The darkness that pressed around him seemed disappointed. Sad.

Zuko's chest tightened. He felt like he was breaching the surface after a long swim, and he gasped back into consciousness.

“—uko?” He came back to himself slowly. Someone was shaking him. “Prince Zuko? What’s wrong?”

He blinked. Sergeant Kaori’s face hovered in front of his own.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I...” Zuko looked around. He was standing in the middle of the road. Asa was nowhere to be seen. Fire Nation soldiers had driven back the citizens of the mining town. Ren and Emiko had the Earth Kingdom criminals, the father and daughter, in chains. 

The sergeant followed his line of sight. "You made the right call, kid," she said. "They attacked you. We have to make an example of them, or else the other townsfolk will get ideas. Plus, we're always in need of cannon fodder."

She grinned, sharp and deadly. Zuko rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion clung to his limbs, and he couldn’t think straight. His conversation with Agni, if you could call it that, had taken a lot out of him.

The sergeant placed a gentle hand on his back, ushering him away from the chaos. He let her lead him back to camp. She guided him to a cot in the healing tent. A healer treated the small wound from the pebble and asked him questions about his name and where he was. After the healer was satisfied that he didn't have a concussion, she began to unwrap the bandages around his eye.

Zuko stiffened. He was uncomfortably aware of how many other soldiers were in the tent, being treated for minor wounds. They had yet to officially go to battle, but training accidents and minor skirmishes were common. He saw Shou, one of the few members of the troop who wasn't a teenager, watching Zuko out of the corner of his eye, trying and failing to be subtle.

_It doesn't matter_ , Zuko told himself, although he wasn't sure he believed it. It was just a scar, and next time he died, he wouldn't even have that. Everything would go back to normal. It would almost be as if he had never disappointed Father in the first place.

"Your face has healed as much as it's going to," the healer said. "There's no sense in leaving the bandages on anymore."

She handed him a small mirror. Zuko took it, but he couldn't bring himself to look at his reflection. Not yet. 

"I'm not gonna lie to you and say it doesn't look bad," Shou said from across the room. "But ignoring it won't change things. The longer you wait, the more painful it will be."

"Don't talk to me as if I were a child," Zuko muttered. He considered setting the mirror aside just to spite the man, but he begrudgingly admitted that Shou was right. He had to look at some point. He hadn’t seen his wound since the day after it happened, when it was still bloody and raw. Even then, all he had seen was a glimpse of his reflection in the blade of his dagger, right before he had resolved to get rid of the wound once and for all. 

With a sigh, Zuko brought the mirror up to his face.

Horror set deep into his bones. His mind was detached as he took in the details of his own face, as if he hadn’t truly processed that that was him. The skin around his eye was red and leathery, with bumps and ridges where the skin had melted and reformed as unfamiliar terrain. His eyebrow had been burned off, and Zuko doubted there was any chance of it growing back. His eye itself was reduced to a thin, swollen slit. 

Zuko traced the edges of his scar, which reached back well into his hair line. His hair was truly awful. The area immediately around the scar had been shaved away at one point, but was now starting to grow back as peach fuzz. The rest of his hair was singed and unruly, only half of it long enough to fit into his top knot. 

Had he really been walking around looking so disgraceful?

“I can cut it, if you want.”

Heat rushed to Zuko’s face. He looked up at Shou, who was watching him thoughtfully. 

“I used to be a hair dresser,” Shou explained. “Before I was drafted. I was a damn good one, too. Had my own shop and everything.”

Zuko hesitated. He loved his long hair. It was one of the few things about his appearance that he was proud of, even if he was bad at styling it. But just like with the scar, it hurt more the longer he clung to the past.

"Shave it off," he said. "But can you leave enough for a Phoenix Plume?"

He was still royalty, after all. He refused to give that up.

Shou smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Of course, my prince," Shou said. "I heard the Sun Warriors used to wear their hair in a similar style. Very honorable, indeed."

Zuko sat with Shou beside the large fire in the center of the camp. Ren, Emiko, and a handful of other soldiers greeted him with smiles when he joined them. Several gasped when they saw his hair, and even more started when they noticed his scar. He ignored them. A steaming bowl of stew was pressed into his hands. The heat warmed is bones, but it did little to calm his unease. He tried to lose himself in the idle conversation around him, but he couldn’t ignore the sounds coming from their makeshift jail where they held the Earth Kingdom prisoners.

_“It’s a long, long way to Ba Sing Se,”_ the father sang, cradling his daughter as they sat in their metal cage. “ _But the girls in the city, they look so pretty!”_

Zuko watched as the man punctuated the lyric with an exaggerated kiss on the girl’s forehead, making her laugh. She joined him for the next verse. Their voices were quiet and thick from holding back tears. 

Had Father ever looked at him or Azula with such affection? Zuko couldn't recall. 

He turned to the sergeant. “You said we’re using them for cannon fodder,” he asked. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Emiko muttered. Zuko glared at her.

“We dress them in our armor and put them on the front lines,” Sergeant Kaori explained. “It spares our soldiers from the first wave of attacks.”

“Those Earth Kingdom savages don’t even realize they’re killing their own people,” Ren said. “I bet the look on their faces when they figure out what they’ve done is priceless. Can’t wait to see it for myself.”

Zuko’s stomach turned. He remembered his vision of the fate that awaited the father and daughter on the battlefield, of giant stones pummeling them into the hard, packed earth. He put down his stew, no longer hungry. 

He missed Uncle. The old man was annoying, but there was something comforting about his presence.

“ _Leaves from the vine_ ,” Zuko sang, almost without realizing it. The words were clumsy on his lips. It sounded better when Uncle sang it. “ _Falling so slow.”_

Shou smiled, but there was no joy in it. “ _Like tiny, fragile shells,_ ” he joined in. “ _Drifting in the foam._ ”

“ _Little soldier boy, come marching home,_ ” they sang. “ _Brave soldier boy, come marching home.”_

By the time the song was over, Zuko felt more at peace. His fingers itched for a tsungi horn, and he quietly cursed Uncle’s influence. He looked up and found a gaggle of soldiers staring at him, some in confusion, others in wonder. More had joined them around the fire during the song. Shou and the sergeant were the only ones above the age of twenty. 

These are the kids that General Bujing wanted to sacrifice? How could a man want something so monstrous? Surely Father punished him for even considering it an option.

Sergeant Kaori ducked her head when he caught her staring. Why did she look guilty?

“Excuse me,” the sergeant said. She stood and wiped away what looked suspiciously like tears before retreating to her tent. The rest of the troop stared after her.

“Way to bring down the mood, Your Highness,” Emiko said.

“It’s an old war song,” Shou explained. “I’m surprised someone so young would know it.”

“My uncle sings it all the time.” Zuko shrugged. “I guess I picked it up from him.”

“Your uncle?” Ren leaned forward, his interest peaked. “Like, the Dragon of the West? That’s so cool. I wish my uncle was the Dragon of the West.”

“He’s not as cool as you think. Uncle’s just a meddling old man obsessed with tea and Pai Sho.”

“I would be honored to get my ass beat at Pai Sho by General Iroh,” Ren said, wistful. Zuko would never understand that kid.

The campfire gathering came alive with stories and song. All of the teenage soldiers seemed to be familiar with the same tunes, but Zuko had never heard of them. He had never interacted with kids his age, other than Azula and her friends. Those girls certainly didn't sing. 

Most of the stories were goofy, but there were a few somber tales as well. Emiko spoke of a group of rebels living in the forest outside Gaipan, who murdered her parents and siblings as they transported goods into the colony. She only survived because she hid. She claimed that she would never again hide from Earth Kingdom monsters.

Shou spoke fondly of his barber shop, and of the two young sons he left behind to live with his elderly parents. He had always been a weak firebender, he said, which is why it took so long for the military to draft him. He missed his peaceful life. But of course, it was an honor to serve the Fire Nation in any way he could, he claimed.

Ren spoke about how he had signed up for the military the day he turned sixteen. Both of his parents had served under General Iroh in the Siege of Ba Sing Se, and he was desperate to prove himself a fine warrior. Frankly, Zuko found Ren’s fanboy nature to be embarrassing, but he couldn’t help but respect his loyalty.

Zuko committed as many of their stories to memory as possible. Perhaps when he returned to the Fire Nation, he could tell their stories to General Bujing and shame the man for ever wanting to sacrifice them.

Asa appeared in front of him. Zuko flinched back, spooked. She rolled her eyes and yanked him to his feet. Zuko held his tongue and tried to make his movements look natural. He was just starting to gain his troop's respect, and he refused to let this Agni-forsaken spirit ruin it. 

"Excuse me," he said to the soldiers as he tried and failed to rip his arm from Asa's iron grip. "I'll be right back."

She dragged him across camp, only stopping when they arrived at Sergeant Kaori's tent. 

"Why did you bring me here?" Zuko demanded. Asa vanished, and he stumbled at the sudden lack of support. 

Zuko cursed her.

Just as he was about to head back to the campfire, he heard an angry shout from within the sergeant's tent. Smoke drifted out from the flap. Zuko burst inside. The sergeant sat on the ground, sobbing into her hands. Flames licked at the base of the fabric wall opposite her. Zuko extinguished them with a flick of his wrist. 

"What happened?" Zuko asked. He glanced around for danger but found none. She must have let out a burst of flame in her frustration.

“We’re going to die, you know,” the sergeant whispered. “We aren’t supporting General Bujing’s men. We’re a... a _sacrifice_. A way to distract the enemy so that Bujing can crush them from behind.”

Zuko stared at her. Any word he tried to say caught in his throat.

“I’ve been lying to all of them. To you. For most of the troop, its their first battle. And for all of them, it will be their last,” she said. “At least I deserve to be here! But you’re just a kid. Agni, they’re all just kids!”

Father said this was an opportunity, not a punishment. It couldn't be an impossible battle. There had to be a way for him to prove himself. 

_You will learn to fight, one way or another,_ Father had said. 

An idea spun in his mind. It was crazy, but with Agni’s support it might just work.

"Cheer up, Sergeant,“ Zuko told her. "My father would never allow General Bujing to do such a thing. Besides, I think I know how get all of us through this alive.”

It was easier than expected to creep by the metal cage long after the campfire had been abandoned. He melted through the lock and let the door to the prison swing free. The man looked up at him as he did so, curled protectively around his sleeping daughter. Zuko pressed a finger to his lips and peeled off into the night. The pair had been punished enough, and no one deserved to be used as cannon fodder. Zuko would deal with repercussions later.

In contrast, it was surprisingly difficult to sneak into the hawker's tent. The birds squawked and fidgeted as he entered the room. Zuko tried not to be too bummed to discover another animal hated him now. He suspected that with each death, he came back different somehow. Just a little off. Animals must be able to pick up on it. 

He barely managed to strap his message to a hawk's leg, send it on its way, and sneak away from the tent before the hawker came to investigate the commotion. The bird should reach the Earth army encampment by daybreak.

Zuko laid awake on his sleeping mat, camped beneath the stars beside his fellow soldiers. Sleep evaded him. His body thrummed with anticipation, his plan already set in place.

Now all he had to do was wait.

“Your Highness?” Sergeant Kaori asked at breakfast. Her voice was sickly sweet. She never called him that anymore unless she was pissed. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course, Sergeant.” Zuko struggled to keep his face blank as he got up to follow her. When they were out of earshot of the others, she pressed a scroll into his hands. Fingerprints had been burned into the parchment. 

Zuko feigned ignorance. "What is this?"

"It's a message from the enemy encampment!" The sergeant's hands were steaming. "Apparently, General Huang accepts your offer for an Agni Kai!"

"I can explain--"

"You idiot boy!" she shouted. "You had no right to go behind the captain's back like this!"

"Would you rather try to fight them head on?” Zuko yelled back. “You and I both know this troop isn't prepared for a battle. They'll be slaughtered! With an Agni Kai, I can end this with minimal loss." 

"You're insane!"

"It will work! General Huang is notoriously prideful. I knew he would accept. And I also know I can beat him."

"You got beat up by a little girl yesterday!"

Zuko flushed. "She caught me by surprise! That doesn't count!"

"I can't allow a child to fight my battles in good conscience." The sergeant sighed. Zuko felt like he watched her age ten years with the one gesture. "But it's too late. He's already accepted your terms. Do you really think you can beat him?"

Zuko nodded. "I know I can. Besides, we just need them to be distracted long enough for Bujing's attack," he said. "I can be very distracting."

He should have known that his plan was doomed to fail. There was no honor in the Earth Kingdom, after all. 

The Agni Kai, if you could even call it that, started off in Zuko’s favor. The sun bore down on the bare skin of Zuko’s back. To any other, Agni’s warmth would have been uncomfortable, but it added to Zuko’s confidence. He may have disagreed with Agni’s plans for him, but the Great Spirit had always taken care of him. The fire that usually simmered beneath his skin now boiled. 

He faced the 41st Division. They stood at the ready, holding back but only just. Zuko gave them a brief, determined nod. 

Someone from the Earth army sounded a horn. Zuko turned to face his opponent. General Huang was a short but broad man, with muscular arms that were thicker than Zuko’s legs put together. 

A taunting smile appeared on General Huang’s face. Zuko wasted no time. He thrust his fist out, accompanied by a burst of fire that even Father would be proud of. The general stomped and brought up a wall of stone to block the attack, but not before his eyebrows had been singed off. Zuko smirked and kept up the attack. He drove the man back, never giving him time to come off the defensive. 

Zuko analyzed each of General Huang’s movements, learning which gestures corresponded with which types of moves. He was an expressive man and telegraphed his attacks to a nearly irresponsible degree. Zuko was dominating this fight, and it wasn’t even hard.

The 41st Division cheered. Zuko let their faith fuel him. He would defeat General Huang, and then Father would welcome him back with open arms. A grin stretched across his lips. Everything was coming together. 

The battle lulled. Zuko circled the general, whose chest was heaving for breath. He watched the man like a firehawk, searching for any twinge of his muscles, any sign of an attack, but General Huang remained still. 

Zuko cried out as packed earth suddenly encased his leg like a stony cast. It tightened until something snapped. Black dots exploded across his vision. He screamed as white hot pain shot through his calf and knee.

General Huang hadn’t done that. He hadn’t moved a muscle! One of the other earthbenders must have, which means he had broken the rules of the Agni Kai. However, Zuko was in too much pain to voice it.

The general raised his hand, lifting stone with it. Rock wrapped around Zuko’s other leg and wrists, forcing him to kneel on the hard ground. General Huang pulled a dagger from a sheath at his belt, nearly identical to the one Uncle had given him, and held it to Zuko’s throat. 

There was a beat of silence. 

Something wet and hot dripped down Zuko's throat. He held the general's gaze, refusing to show any fear, to disgrace his nation any further than he already had.

A war cry rose up from the Fire Nation troops. Zuko turned as much his restraints allowed just in time to see the 41st Divison charge forward. General Huang removed the dagger from his throat as the Earth army rushed out to meet them, with Zuko caught between.

He struggled desperately against his restraints. Zuko channeled as much heat as he could muster into his hands and feet. His restraints exploded outwards in shattered chunks. It was a risky maneuver, but getting burned by his own attack was better than getting trampled. 

The explosion threw him to the ground. He almost blacked out as the impact disturbed his leg and scraped the raw skin on his freshly burned hands. The armies were close enough for him to hear the soldiers’ heavy footsteps and haggard breathing. Zuko couldn’t stand. He couldn’t hide. Agni, he couldn’t even think through the pain. With no other options clear to him, he curled up with his arms protecting his head as the armies clashed above him.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Zuko did not get trampled.

Eventually, the screams, explosions, and earth-shattering impacts of large stones striking the ground faded into the backdrop. General Bujing must have finally began his counterattack. Zuko slowly uncurled himself. His limbs were stiff and difficult to move, not unlike a corpse.

"Prince Zuko?" a voice called. 

"Ren," Zuko breathed. He was relieved to see a familiar face. 

Ren’s smile was blinding as he helped Zuko to his feet. Zuko wrapped his arm around the older boy’s shoulders to keep the weight off of his injured leg. Ren chatted as they walked, but Zuko's ears still rang from the aftermath of the battle. He nodded along, trying to follow the conversation as best he could while his brain felt like it was stuffed with wool.

His foot snagged on something. Ren barely managed to keep them both upright. Zuko looked back and gagged when he saw what he had tripped on. The body of a Fire Nation soldier, with blood pooling beneath him from a gruesome head wound.

Zuko did a double-take. It wasn’t just any body. It was Ren’s.

He turned to the boy — no, the spirit— holding him. Ren laughed awkwardly, running his free hand through his hair. 

“I think I speak for all of us when I say it was an honor to serve you, Prince Zuko,” he said.

Movement flickered in his peripheral. Zuko turned in a slow circle, watching in horror as hundred of figures appeared on the battlefield, rising from their fallen bodies. The spirits of the 41st Division offered him sad smiles and awkward waves.

Emiko stepped toward him and looped his other arm around her shoulders. “It still is an honor,” she said. “My duty isn’t done until you’re safe.”

Explosions roared in the distance. Occasionally, a stone would stray from the battle and land close enough to Zuko to send up a cloud of dust in his face. As Ren and Emiko ushered him forward, Zuko tried not to think about the bodies he was stepping over, or about the specters that followed in his wake.

Time passed like sand through his fingers. The sounds of the battle grew further in the distance. His leg dragged with each step, but he kept walking forward. Sunlight bore down on the back of his neck. He idly stared at a mountain in the distance, the only landmark around him that wasn’t tinged in red. 

Wait. He stopped walking. That mountain was too short to be natural, too flat. It was Ba Sing Se. It had to be.

Zuko sat down on the dry, packed earth, nearly dragging Ren and Emiko with him. A chuckled escaped his lips, and soon he found that he couldn’t stop laughing. He dropped his face into his hands and stiffened when he felt his own rough skin.

_Suffering will be your teacher_ , Father had said. If that was the case, he had learned a lot lately. 

The spirits shouted in warning. Footsteps approached him, but Zuko was too busy gasping for breath the care. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the royal brat,” a man said. “Care for a rematch, little boy?”

The laughter died in Zuko’s throat. It was General Huang. Oh, Agni. He didn’t think he had any fight left in him. Earth Kingdom soldiers surrounded him on all sides. The spirits of the 41st tried desperately to stand between Zuko and the enemy, but their spectral forms did nothing to shield him from the earthbenders.

The general knelt in front of him and lifted his hand. Zuko’s head snapped to the side as he was struck by General Huang’s open palm. He swallowed his grunt of pain, refusing to give the man the satisfaction.

“I asked you a question!” The man said. He grabbed Zuko and shook him violently. 

Zuko glared. “You couldn’t fight me the first time without cheating. Why would I trust you to fight honorably now?”

“Fire Nation scum. You’re going to die just like your cousin, buried alive outside the walls of the Impenetrable City. I’m gonna kill you slow and mail your lousy corpse to the Firelord himself.”

Another laugh burst from Zuko’s chest. “Good luck with that. I've been told I'm hard to kill," he said. "Besides, why are you so far from the battle? Are you running away because you realized you were outmatched?"

Rage distorted the earth general’s face. Large hands wrapped around Zuko’s throat and _squeezed_ , pressing him into the ground. Streams of dirt snaked around his limbs, his throat, and finally poured into his mouth and nose. Zuko hacked and coughed. He clawed at the hands that held him, but it did nothing. 

Black dots burst across his vision. His fingernails sank into the flesh of General Huang’s face, leaving deep gouges along the man’s cheeks. Earth encased Zuko’s hands and feet again, trapping them to the ground. He wriggled and writhed, panic taking over his mind as he struggled to escape with an animalistic instinct.

He was out of air. The dirt hardened like cement in his lungs. Zuko's heart gave out as he laid outside Ba Sing Se in the hot summer sun, only yards from where his cousin suffered the same fate three years prior.

Something dripped onto Zuko’s face. He reached up to wipe it away, annoyed. Did it rain this close to the Si Wong Desert? Zuko didn’t think so.

He cracked his eyes. Uncle’s face hovered over him, red and puffy from crying. Lu Ten sat just behind him and smiled shakily.

“See, Dad? I told you he would be alright.”

Zuko blinked up at him. He reached his hand up toward his cousin, who grasped it with a strong grip and pulled him upright. The spirits of the 41st formed a ring around them a respectful distance away. He could just barely General Huang’s burnt corpse lying on the ground behind Uncle.

“Let’s go home, nephew,” Uncle said, rubbing soothing circles into Zuko’s back.

Zuko shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, hating how his voice cracked. “I failed him. He doesn’t want me back.”

“As if I would let you return that man,” Lu Ten said. “You’re free of him now. No titles or crowns are worth what he put you through.”

“We’ll just have to make a new home, then.” Iroh pressed something into Zuko’s hands. It was Zuko’s dagger, the one Uncle had confiscated from him back on the ship. “Remember, never give up without a fight.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired, Uncle.”

“Then allow us to fight for you, Prince Zuko,” Uncle said.

Lu Ten nodded in agreement. “Family takes care of each other, right?”

Zuko nodded. Tears welled up in his eyes. One half of him cursed his weakness. The other half fell into Uncle’s waiting arms and took comfort in the man’s warmth. 

“Father knew this would happen, didn’t he?” Zuko said, his voice small. “General Bujing suggested sacrificing the 41st, and Father didn’t stop him.”

Uncle furrowed his brow. “How do you know this?”

“I had a vision, “ he said. “Agni has started showing me things, trying to convince me to complete his idea of what my destiny should be. I could have stopped this. But I was too weak. And now my citizens have to pay the price for my failure.”

Zuko leaned back away from Uncle. He brought the dagger up to the base of his Phoenix Plume and sliced through it with one, confident motion. He didn’t deserve the hair he had so desperately tried to save.

Uncle and Lu Ten watched him, silent.

“If this is the Fire Nation’s idea of victory, I want no part of it,” Zuko said. He stared down at his trembling hands. The dagger was clasped in one fist, his ponytail in the other. “If this is my Father’s vision of progress, then I don’t share it. But I love my county, Uncle. I love my family. What do I do?”

“Right now, you rest.”

“But—“

“There will be time for self-reflection later. The decisions you wrestle with cannot be solved in a single night. They may not be solved in an entire lifetime,” Uncle said. “Take a breath, nephew. We will figure this out, but not until we manage to find a place to rest and a halfway decent cup of tea.”

Uncle took the dagger from him and severed his own topknot. There was no hesitation, no regret. Zuko stared at him in awe.

“I would cut my own hair, but I think mine is stuck like this forever,” Lu Ten said with a chuckle. “But know that I am with you in spirit.”

He grinned cheekily, letting them know that the pun was purposeful. Zuko groaned. Iroh, Lu Ten, and the other spirits laughed, and Zuko allowed himself to believe that maybe, eventually, everything would be alright.

END OF PART ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! My life has been chaotic lately (and I got distracted writing a Zukka one shot, oops).
> 
> Part One is finally done! This was essentially the prologue. Part Two will occur after a time skip and follow two primary storylines (Zuko’s and Azula’s) as they come to terms with their awful childhoods, figure out their own destinies, and begin the healing process. The Gaang will also finally join the story, so that’s fun :)
> 
> Please ignore the fact that Agni spoke in chapter 1. From now on, he will primarily communicate through visions.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! This is my first long fic, so please feel free to let me know what’s working for you and what isn’t.


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